When everything becomes so wild and nothing seems to be right you might be too long on an endless path trying to find the right way out of pathless streams that only freedom knows; the other side of the lake suddenly turns to be too far, the playful waves taken by Sirens’s song carry you out off the bay far, far away and that’s where you land– in the middle of a dream, the perfect sky screen-shot that suddenly seems like an azure touch down with no meaning. You dive even deeper, but there is no way back; hard to realize, you can’t pass once crossed river rushing through the valley you have known once and recite the same rhymes sinking in the mud. Instead, let go of haste hopes and chant, touch the Summer night bosom where we will blossom to the surface and become the open lotus petals of a new life of love. Freedom is a beginning in its tragic end; no one is there to deny or prove the existence, no one to glorify, it’s a prodigy of us who are and ought to be, the ones who stand against the odds and look straight in the eyes, of a Gorgon’s reflection glee. You’re the warrior who seeds the land of unfulfilled wishes, I am the armor who catches carved in stones Perseus’s silent sigh captured with a horror of a hanging mystery reflected in every existing mirror so finely pixeled that no one can make it out.