I search...

I’m searching for a flat with views to the stars, in the neighbourhood where all the skies are blue and the grass looks greener than in other places I saw in this trip I embarked on in the conviction that
I look for a residence at the depths of the abyss, for getting comfort in feeling the sensation that I would never hit bottom again, always just looking above until I find a staircase that could ascend me to the apartment that
I search in the middle of the desert, where the landscape it’s eternal and mutable at the same time, a place in which trying to find the balance between frozen nights of loneliness and burning hope days, all this while
I search a castle in the bottom of the ocean, where everything changes constantly and the tides comes and goes, where water and sky seem to be the same thing to stare at while
searching a shelter in the middle of those storms in which the sky breaks above me, where to dance with lightning bolts without ending deadly hurt, and yelling with the thunder the roaring of my wrath, something I always wanted since I
search for a hut lost in the mountain of nothingness, nobody around to remind me human cruelty, just the cruel Nature around, the only one I can stand since I
search asylum in someone’s heart, for sleeping there rocked by a warm and constant beating, would it be, maybe, that
I search a hiding place where dead would never find me, nor would sickness and fear? Could be, that, or simply
I search the home of the answers to all that things I always wanted to know, the place where old forgotten gods await for being remembered, and where they whisper their secrets. Maybe they would tell them to me if they knew that I
search a room at the end of the world’s hotel, a place for resting while watching how everything ends for starting over again, in never-ending cycle. I have a vision of the new opportunity, of the beginning from zero, a vision in which I search
to lay in a bed of that hospital able to heal my soul’s wounds, I have too many now, and in which an comprehensive doctor won’t take me for a madman if I tell him that
I’m searching for the heart of darkness, a complete night that would allow me to see my own light, the one that enlightens me whenever I fall in despair and
search for the silence and coldness of a crystallised tent in a glacier, the little warm that I still have making me something special in the middle of all that cold, the chance to feel something unique, and thus to remember from the depths of my oblivion that
I search for my place in destiny’s line, in people’s eyes and in the mind of some lost angel who would take compassion on me, he could whisper to my ear if I am right or I am wrong believing that I just
search for a caravan at the edge of a cliff, enjoying the constant sensation of being only mine the decision of jumping off or keeping my feet on earth, something to spend my time when trying to convince myself that no, I don’t
search to live in the Northern Lights, staring at the earth from above and the space from below, thinking in a middle point from which maybe I won’t ever get where I intend to go, that stop I
search fearing that, maybe, I would die in the way, but, whatever, in my defence, I could always rise my head proudly, knowing that, at least, I search.