– Τurn off the lights, you used to say once upon a time when you were singing, but now the theater itself illuminates you, even if you’re not bald, just so that the black board of need, which records your disobedience to barbarism would be visible, as you couldn’t withstand the severity of nihilism.
They had told you to believe different things in life, and had included you in a play without preparing you, and as result you didn’t realize that you hadn’t sold out the tickets, as your hands fell on your side when you saw the void behind the nothingness.
So the henchman of hope fell into a coma, and as a dog, could not even pretend to be Cerberus, as it was headless since the brushing off of the text from the absurdity of thinking.
Who could’ve imagined it before they lived through it.
It was head control, as we now say, capital control.
As if it was regarding the examination of your favourite book, which nevertheless you’ve never read, and you were cut off, due to lack of dialectical materialism.
And now, just like Miss Margarida, you’re waiting on for the bell ring, so that you return in the Paliament house, while the maids are sick of you and your rejoinders.
Even the Godless author, has decided not to include you in the second act.
And just as you were in the shadows, came the lights of the theater to explain to you, or rather to confess to you, that your life’s play was over, and likewise the life of your act, because the law for you, even if it’s severe, it remains the law nevertheless.
Consequently, it condemned you in to breaking roots you didn’t obtain, because you were guilty for the absence of the revolution.