Help - Theory of high-altitude catalysis.

Optron #11
                                          
                                          
   ╔════────                              
 ║                                      
   │ Theory of high-altitude catalysis  │    
                                     ║    
                             ────════╝    
                                          
(C) Protein, 1998                        
                                          
                                          
  Man on top...               
                                          
      He's alone.                            
               And there is emptiness all around.          
                                          
      Brighter than the stars of the night,                 
                                          
      Snow is whiter than any leaf.            
                                          
      Rocks are harder than diamond                 
                                          
      And the moon, like the air, is clean.       
                                          
      The wind is drunk to the point of ecstasy.The man here is more transparent than glass.    
                                          
      Through the puff and sweater,            
                                          
      Flesh and bones                      
                     as if they don't exist    
                                          
As a celestial arbiter                 
                                          
      A merciless light penetrates.        
                                          
      Trembling of laziness                    
                                          
      Mold of fear and thickets of lies        
                                          
      He draws like shadows                  
                                          
      And throws souls onto the snowfield.          
                                          
      He will open dispassionately              
                                          
      The subconscious is blind corners.            
                                          
      He will open it with a sharp scalpel,          
                                          
      Will squeeze it out                             
              will burn you to ash.        
                                          
      And, leaving the top,                 
                                          
      Youyou won't go down the same way you were.   
                                          
      You are half of yourself                    
                                          
      Scattered along the mountain spurs.          
                                          
              ──══════════──              

Share your thoughts about the article