From a Crowded Train.
The train stopped with a shudder.
On that hazy winter morning, I saw the fading moon preposterously struggling to outshine the little white clouds.
I was surrounded by others and my ears, without listening to me, started listening to others.
Vile were their thoughts and useless their conversations, accustomed to the routine, they were afraid of anything new. Their talks aroused, not curiosity, but only contempt.
Restrained were their wills and cremated their desires, they deserve not to even imagine freedom.
Objects and tools are they in the hands of someone superior, never have they estimated their own values beyond the wages set by their charlatan bosses.
Champions of humanity, they call themselves, for they ardently follow the morals and the codes, the rules and the ethics fool them a lot, but for them it is, still, a matter of pride.
Reflectors are they of successes past; indicators are they of the failures impending.
There was a sudden silence in their blabbering and in my thoughts.
A lonely crow flew over the moon silently and without any efforts, without noticing anything.
The moon realised that a new day has dawned and he hid behind the ephemeral clouds to soon fade away.
The train started with a shudder.
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