We come from different places,
which don’t necessarily have to be on earth,
and we fight over who is right.
Though we barely know anything.
We believe our eyes,
though they barely perceive anything.
And we never see this.
We don’t see the real world,
we look at it, but we don’t see it,
what we see isn’t even a reflection.
The eye is limited, very much so,
in perception.
And yet we could see through,
but we’re afraid.
We’re afraid we would see the horror,
that has locked us in our small world.
From which we find no exit.
And yet here and there someone is found,
who tries, but we immediately attack them,
immediately they’re strange,
though the strangest are we,
ourselves, who consider ourselves normal,
but we’re just puppets in a herd, rushing lost into the abyss.
We can’t go our own way.
We fear the judgment that we ourselves carry out on the different ones.
Yes, we fear ourselves,
and some call this hell.
And persistently, persistently we persist in it,
so that even the sun revolves around us, not just we around it,
so that lives rush,
ignite and extinguish,
and still we persist in quarrel,
we fight with our own soul,
we belittle it, trample it, despise it,
and we don’t comprehend this.
Here and there is someone who listens to her,
even though lost, soulless puppets,
walk over him and play righteous ones,
rules we know they themselves have written,
they think ethics is in them,
though they don’t even know what this means.
Ethics is the soul, to which barely anyone listens,
and only they know what this means,
all others wander and bite each other in darkness.
And this is our wonderful world,
which we so adore,
that we devour everything that crawls,
if it’s not tasty, then we trample it.