Book of Spring - An Intimate Loss of Connection & Recreation

It made no sense, just like it never did..
A strap-on to keep us in place was never useful because we were never able to run away
Our legs gave up trying after realizing the truth about life
After seeing the mines setting off around the fields
It came to its senses and feared of death..

Selfish, in my opinion,
Selfish to keep the reason to the limit that only you are considered..
What if the body has the will to be torn into pieces?
What if it's dying to taste the pain and drown in hate?
The legs didn't care.. Rather couldn't, because of their fear of death..
But there was bravery where the heart laid..
Yes, some people called it bravery,
Yet it was nothing but a sequential derivative of the events that occurred
That finally heart felt that there will be death no matter what..
If it stayed here, it was subject to rot and trail off with tears;
Nothing was of inspiration now, a desolate island of burden
A non-materialistic, metallic, non edgy world with nothing to impose the self to
An impediment to the spiritual relief through astral projections..

It has seen the fall of the Muse..
The wings burning slowly, the angel crying out in vain,
And no one to help but the heart itself..
It has seen the last struggle of the Muse
But could do nothing about it..
Legs were too afraid to step out of the circle
Too afraid of its own death that it cared no more about the heart
The only thing that kept it alive..
So fell the Muse, burned into ashes, scattered around the clouds..

The heart had lost the last reason to live
Now it needed new ways to die
It wanted to feel alive, instead of sitting here, waiting to loose senses..
It commanded, shouted to the legs
But they listened not..
It cut the flow of blood to them
Legs still feared the other way of death: the sudden and the unexpected..

Soon the heart gave up
It knew that it was here to stay
So he built a shelter of bricks
Closed itself in, as if it was trying to suffocate itself..
And it did, it started to die
Sending the last moan out into the world
Hoping his fate won't be like that of the Muse,
Hoping that its estrangement will be the path to keep him alive..

It had no other choice.. Already at the verge of death
It wanted to make it an unusual one..
It never made sense, how it had to arrive at this very spot
How it was lured into this trap..
Death, now seemed more friendly and caressing;
It looked down to the legs, legs that it strangled
It felt the victory in its blood.. A comforting pact with death..