Should I go?

Should I go?

Should I go?

Should I really go?

I don't know and I can't even think

about a future between my home and the sky

if I go, fly into the clouds

Will I find what I am?

Will I know who I am?

Will I really know what this life has prepared me for?

Or should I dig, really deep in the soil

where the plants tell me how they grow?

Will I end up both ways near the sun, or will I just see what I never achieved?

I don't know what to do, nor what to say

this life that was already written did not need my knowledge to be completed

why do I have to write my life when I don't know if I enjoy this much

I don't know, my hands feel weak.

My writing is not as powerful as the bird that can get the plant

or break the clouds.

My hand lacks strongness, lacks softness. It lacks what I don't know, it lacks everything that makes me grow.

Will I fly, fly to the sky? 

Will I fall, deep in a hole?

Will I know, deep in my heart, what it's all about?