My Writen Painted felt Authobiography ;)

thinking aloud he was….

Lost love
come back
Still here half filled with empty thoughts.
Unclear what is needed to touch this puzzling soul in search of responses, where faith illuminates the unforeseen itinerary.

Victimized living, a memory…
Present life an illusion…
Future life amorphous by reality.

Shaken undestined heart by unattainable freedom,
Platonic eyesight of an utopianized tomorrow where decisions are made in the darkness of the night; the moment when worshipping the unknown is easier than standing firm on the ground.

Sunlight the following morning is coming, that’s no fallacy
and under the Sun reality is seen without a beauty mask.

Truth is brought by the sun, who bathes with light even the deepest secrets of the soul.

Clarity is nowhere to be found
but life is here and not going anywhere soon.
Mountain climb, and down the hill, cycle of life, is where seeing begins and re-inventing itself, it evolves in a path of confusion and blissfulness
When obscurity dominates, we may be found
we may be IN the center of the light.

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