The Transitional Plunge

The house does not hide
Crying out in different ways
Shards fly with wings of their own
I see the world outside
At the end of the dimly lit corridor
There are 10 doors to my left
10 doors to my right
They command me to enter
Lights flicker animatedly
My eyes move furtively
The soles grow watery
Mad wind in my hair
Nerves in the opaque mind
The distance is far and narrow
Banshees in the cobwebs scream
The feet move… gathering pace
The doors become giants
Strangling the body slowly
The mind is with the soul
Freedom grows bigger
The distance has narrowed
Transforming into ether

Escaping through the corners
Then the plunge into the wave
Dissolving of extremities
The loss … therefore, the peace
No reason to think anymore
The lifting up of arms
And the soaring of spirit
Till the end of freedom
The end… It never shall come…