Dyin in June is Hard

Summer is beautiful

Dying in June is Hard

Sometimes existence is as thin as a breath,
And sometimes it's a storm exploding within us.
We know that every thought is an ocean,
And every wave strikes our shores, one day.

Is there a world waiting for us,
Or is it just the ruins of shattered dreams?
Is the visible side a dream, an illusion,
Or is it a reality that touches our being with every step?

In the endless sky, even the brightest star
Searches for its own path, finds its own light.
But we, though we see how dark the road is,
Always follow the light with hope.

A bullet, a word, a glance...
There’s a stance at the boundary of everything.
Hatreds sometimes turn into wars,
And every victory is a prayer lost again.

Pain grows in our hands,
We rise each morning in another body.
Shadowed souls, who knows what they wait for,
Then we ask: "Who chained us, who wrapped us?"

And we, lost in the madness of these roads,
Carry a rebellion in every thought.
If we take one more step, maybe
We will reach eternity, find happiness.

Even if birds sing in the cage,
You won’t hear, for your sail is in another wind.
Sometimes chains, though invisible,
Make each of us a prisoner, inside ourselves.

A scream echoes in a deep well,
Consciousness gets lost in an endless labyrinth.
And when the voices fade,
In infinite freedom, we remain.

On a June morning, like an autumn breeze,
Death seems as close as it is far.
Every moment we remember, like a fingerprint,
Slowly fades away, leaving a void behind.

This journey is an unknown,
Every step a wound, every breath a memory.
The taste of freedom is perhaps only pain,
And every broken heart beats with the hope of resurrection.

And we, perhaps, live this life as a test,
Which decisions bring freedom?
Who knows, maybe everything starts within,
And every ending is just a beginning, only a name.

Dying in June is hard, perhaps that’s life,
And life turns into death with a single step.
The chains in our minds are reminders,
But every thought is the Light itself.

And we, lose ourselves a little more with every step,
The void within time consumes every moment.
Everything we cling to with hope,
Blows away like a wind, vanishes, erases.

One day, we’ll search for everything lost,
To find again the place we once disappeared.
But everything remains a secret,
And we live to solve that secret.
Maybe existence is the answer to a question.

And one day, maybe we’ll ask the greatest question:
"Is there a boundary, or is this just an illusion?"
In our inner journey, a question always remains,
And we only search for our own light, endlessly.

Author's Note

I am not the author but I have the author's number and email in my profile.