LarsArts - Die Kunst von Lars Schotzau

touched by the sweet wind of an unknown energy,
she rises from the ocean of her dreams,
only to discover a sweet seed of passion,
planted in the midst of her path.
confused by the trap, she asks for guidance.

using all senses given to her
she passes through pre-existent centuries
filled with knowledge of her destiny,
constantly waiting to reach the end of this battle.

fighting in the eternal forest of words,
she deciphers the code of love, hidden
behind the print of a painting.
only to be able to let herself fall
into the clouds of her timeless haven.

encircled by the wind of ignorance,
he finds himself in a state of faint,
consequently looking for advice
in the apartments of his own consciousness.

not being able to recognize the costume of his host,
he confronts the effigy of a shadow
whilst sensing the smell of rats and dogs
in these halls of justice,

the contamination dwindling at the horizon,
he registers a whisper of a long forgotten friend.
an incident, which gives rise to his own
concert of integrity.

waking in the garden of diversity,
his gaze dwells on a hologram of a blossom,
whose existence is not one of his own,
always unable, to identify the spectrum of
his reality fully.

drowning in the plague of the brain,
he tries to celebrate the marriage of discrepancy,
a trial, whose end is already engraved in the marble
of a tombstone.

interrupted by the singing of the pisces,
he hears an energy filled with purity
whose warmth is eternalized in a
sphere of balance.
a muse, who puts an end to the
fight of illusions.

haunted in a valley of emotions,
he walks through the desert of loneliness,
screaming for asylum into the unknown.
his spirit feeling the pain of a pierced heart.

the path of light, hidden between the sound
of the sea and the gratefulness of a mountain,
he discerns a power,
chiselled into the walls of a cathedral,
whose walls whisper words of destiny.

with eyes closed,
he senses waves of pure intensity,
energy illuminating the light of his soul,
whose source is lying beneath the beauty
of her soft skin.

surrounded by a smell,
a scent, which pulls apart
the space of his soul,
he closes his eyes,
followed by the feeling of blood,
pumping through his veins.

not knowing the difference
between the levels of reality,
he senses the presence of devotion,
enclosed in a circle of purity.

sunken in the waters of this dream,
he feels a breath of consciousness,
waiting in the sea of affection,
captured in the deep of her brown eyes.

breathing the heavy air of vice,
he stares into the depths of his past,
the voice of his consciousness,
hidden in the colours red and white.

attempting to flee from the haze of his sin,
does not ease the hunger for oblivion,
the meal of relief rotten in the prison of time.

exhausted by the coldness of his action,
he sinks onto the merciful floor,
to meet the warmth of his heart,
in the deep glow of the embers of truth.

untouched by the word of will,
he leaves the tunnel of his origin,
to find himself crouched in
a landscape of helplessness.

rigid by the dose,
which is given to him,
he drags his body into an direction
of uncertainty,
constantly driven by the fever
of curiosity.

overwhelmed by the imagination
of the unknown,
he banishes the curses of his senses,
to break the fear and to risk
the step into his own dimension.

whilst shrouded in a dress of an iron chain,
its weight hides the pain inside
she rests on a shore of endless doubts,
followed by uncertain curiosity
in the haze of an awakening body.

her soul, taken away from the world outside
by the chaos of time,
is reserved to any affection,
but his glance drowns in the sea of her deep eyes,
the foundation of an unreachable force,
sealed within the glare of her sword.

taken by the sphere of her thoughts,
he leaves the dimension of reality,
to break the coat of her loneliness
in the thirst for release, to finally settle
in the centre of her crystal.

locked in the clarity of a stone,
he searches in its reflection
for an image of eternity.
his hand enclosing the
emanating warmth.

fulfilled by the intensity of a touch,
he devotes himself to uncertainty,
to let the energy of life,
flow through the veins of his body.

taken from the external world,
he closes the gate of consciousness,
to receive a look of indulgence
in the shivering depths of temptation.

surrendering to a world
of shamelessness,
A space in which the sum of
two and three is 42,
They construct the miracle
of meditation.

registered in a school of
abuse and plunder,
a syndicate, whose success
is transferred to a virus,
they pray for a process of
justice.

feeling the injection of
a buried moral,
they inhale the smell of
a herb.
an ingredient, whose retail
price equals the number 0.

the existence of a hologram,
as a means of identification,
they commit themselves to the duty
to obey.
a dogma, which content is contaminated,
by the smell of ink.

in the hall of cheap prices and offers,
they follow blindly the orders given,
unable to recognize the shadow of their host,
through the filter of paranoia.

but obsessed by the thought of the
ultimate, some toss the means of creativity
into the masses. a treatment,
which overexposes the film of life
with the fire of determination.

following the play of a dream
underneath the arches of her own oasis,
she fumbles for the stones of confidence.
an undertaking, which success is already visible
behind the walls of rationality.

leaving behind the flood of applause,
she opens the portal of her in light embedded
consciousness, in order to find the dice of perfection
on the plate of her life behind it.

absorbed in the combat of her thoughts,
she observes the game of temptations,
followed by an instinctive step into the unknown.
forever accompanied by the surreal ghost
of a strange artist.