Divided Soul

A pluge.
A moment of engulfment into yourself, almost imperceptible.
You find yourself in the middle of this path made of timeless perceptions.
The cardinal points of your life dissolve in the waves.
Sometimes under a stormy sky, sometimes under a calm veil that covers a silent tide.
Placid on the surface but tumultuous underneath depriving yourself of every certainty.
And right there a wreath of shadows encasing you gently.
Raising your eyes you glimpse entities you would have never brought to light before.
Horrible appearances already transmuted into tangible perceptions nestles in your conscience.
Now your mind generates a thought, an urge that begins to get stranded deeply into your senses.
These horrible projections are the progeny of your worries.
So you resurface, catching your breath, aware that you could sink again at any moment.
And in that abyss of deformed thoughts you discern one that is essential.
We are all a single objective realty in this sea of unreality and tangiblity.
Where the only connection, the only bond is this element called water.
An intimate prison made of ups and down, constantly looking for a glimmer of light.
Where we can only continue to swim in this ocean calle home.
You find yourself in the middle in this journey, struggling for some air.
Where even freedom turns into a small glimpse too shrouded to see.
But as soon as all that becomes clear you can finally rise.
And open yourself again to the stage of life, where everythings in eternal for a passing moment.
Releasing yourself form fears, finally traversing the real you: A divided soul.