THE CIRCLE OF UNQUENCHABLE THIRST

THE CIRCLE OF UNQUENCHABLE THIRST

The fragments of industrialization,

The serenity of nature,

The chaos of embroiled noises,

The uncontrolled vengeance of the unsatisfied souls,

The soothing and smoothing drift of rurals,

The celtic callings of the forgotten greens,

The peace of chaotic minds and the limitless dreams of the innocents,

Thus meet at the skillful rhythms of the urban

Or at the continuous colourful chores of the rural.

The memories of the lifes left behind,

The voices and sounds of the farewell song,

The words of final advice by the village elders,

The still faces of the dearest ones.

Still they call the heart to go back to the rurals,

But the dreams never lets one to sleep in calm.

The overburdened and overburnt heart of a city soul,

The chaotic and noisy gongs of daily askings,

The vacuum of friendliness and socialisation,

The distant sound of a heartful and soulful laugh,

The demand for superhuman performance,

Forces the life to cry for independence and rural peace,

But the dead habit of lifelessness doesnt open its clutches.

Life as we know it

Is neither the cries of the city souls

Nor the manhattan aspires of a rural

It is just the smile of a battered soul

It is just the balance of reality and fantasy

It is just the circle of unquenchable thirst of human life.