"Shadow"

Thought slides through the centuries

 and turns into people giving life to life,
giving shape to matter

 in a constant and irrepressible flow.

There is no truce, cannot escape a thought.

I look for an handhold,

I try to find a fixed point in the chaos 

but what I see in the mirror now

 is just a shadow, 

my own shadow. 

People travel, 

Earth turns, 

clocks don't stops,

 seasons changes

 and everything seems to have a sense.

But what the sense is?

I look for an handhold,

 I try to find a fixed point in the chaos

 but what I see in the mirror now 

is just a shadow, 

my own shadow.

The Polar Star has stopped shining, 

the compass is crazy 

and now

 I no longer know

 where the North is in this life.

I look for an handhold,

 I try to find a fixed point in the chaos

 but what I see in the mirror now 

is a shadow,

 my own faded shadow. 

What the way is?

What the way is?

What the way is?