Taking out the cork!

 My head goes right to left, left to right,

But where is the right way?

Does anyone know?

I don't

But I get these thoughts,

They come to me after seeing things

good and bad things

They hip hop about

like young lambs in the field

full of joy

but with eyes as sad as the moon that shrivels back before the sun

I think about a lot of things - things that don't mean much, things that mean a lot...

A lot to me, maybe...  

maybe to someone else

maybe not to nothing.

The wall in front of my eyes is dark - 

I wish I could draw it back

My hands won't make it move

neither will my words -

only thoughts will work.

But what are thoughts worth when your mind is an enemy against you?

What am I?

Is the brain anything at all?

Does it do any work?

What about the soul?

What is the soul?

Is it me or is it something more out there?

More of me that thinks for me?

Does anything think?

I don't know.

  Right now I feel my mind, whatever that is, that thing that makes the limbs move, is all tied up in a horrible tight way.

After some wondering in the mind, and after a countless million dreams I see things differently.

We are all a bottle of fine wine.  We all contain a fine flavour.  We just need to take the cork out.

No hand can do that except yours.

  You have to be the hand.

Take out the cork and be free

To be free is to be you

And you are like fine wine,

making poetry in the breeze.

Let it go

let it flow

You are a fine wine with its own flavour - its own story

Just pull out the cork...

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Also take a look at:
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Play Given 'em Hell
Play Elfin Quest
Witches Brew a short text based adventure game!
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