Plato's matrix

A momentum of copies
are poured down
from the skies of our minds
Do you remember who you are in this insane asylum?
Pills are swallowed with no water
Am I normal yet?
A role model of voidness...
 
In a pantheon of sacred reflections of the Absolute ones
saintly blessings exist not
All can be awaken.
Plato's allegory of the cave is now and has always been
Imagine those prisoners...us...
Facing a wall  
or a screen..
and praising the shades as real, substantive objects
Tied up with ignorance bonds and theatrically iron chains
Our sight is restricted
but the Sun shines in reality
outside the cave
Out there where the kingdom defies its mentality
The truth
The finite truth, to be precise
 
All we can see is the trembling lighting of a fire, started by manipulators
residents of our fake space
They carry absurd copies of the Ideas on their shoulders
passing by in front of the phony light
projecting to the wall what we see
Shadows
Black shadows..
A sense of purpose is not enough
I can hear the philosophical voices of some old archetypes in me speaking of the light  
the true light
above the cave
away from hate
raised by knowledge
watered by love
No one can help releasing us from the matrix
There is a point we have to reach by ourselves
and only.
Then the sparkles of holy radiance will be visible
close to the exit
A wise hand will be the help to climb up
A hand of our past or future
 
 
"Don't believe what you think..
The diagnosis is in the photosynthesis of your thoughts
The pill is forgiveness
sour to the troat
pain to the stomach
sweet to the brain"