The castle of my mind, my safe place,
With blurry walls, worn out dungeons and large corridors with no end,
Sometimes I wander, knocking on the doors of my past,
Peeking on old memories, laughing hard in silence, or walking on water if I want,
Sometimes I'm a builder, I build new doors with shinning handles and carved stars,
And I wrap myself some thoughts, very tight, and close the door after I leave them behind,
Sometimes I'm a digger, I dig deep holes, bottomless holes, obscures and dark,
To throw confusions, regrets and sorrows,
To clean the castle of my mind,
I go there, to hear my ideas storming and clouding my head,
To start over and make my plans, to escape from reality, to rest on my restless bed,
Sometimes I'm seating on a real chair, or communicating abstractions to beings of a different fate,
But I'm traveling, traversing timeless paths of warm embrace, while I leave the work to my duplicate,
The beings ask about my knowledge, my academic prowess or a trade that I could colligate,
So, I free some thoughts through the sounded gate,
But can you rest? Can I rest? They want me to switch sound by noise,
They are pulling me out, pretending I exchange my bright castle by their sun,
Asking me to leave my peace for war.
I stay at my corner, where I'm the undefeated champion, where I'm the one who rings the bell,
Throwing imaginary punches, opening the tomorrow, knocking down the yesterday.
