Call me insane

 

                   Eva Pálházi
                   Call me insane

Call me insane, I refuse to be normal

in a game, where blind angels tear each others'

wings, guffawing as cretins, bloated formal

expectations' drossy violence covers

the senseless habits' two-tongued shabby moral,

               I refuse to be normal;

just call me mad, since I refuse to adapt

to the vision's trend, where the hated orphan

of responsibility got deadly trapped

by human beings' ignorance, the coffin

of conscience lies forgotten in six feet depth,

               yes, I refuse to adapt;

just call me moonstruck, whilst I refuse to trust

the grim sight, where false blue birds of happiness

are manufactured on long production lines,

costs few cents, no need for serious intent,

as drunken buffoons' dance of death, puke and grime,

               I do refuse the trust;

call me fool, I refuse to live by the rules

of empty pageants' hypocrite magistrates,

when mindless judgments' prejudiced untruth

annuls the unseen values and dominates,

the disguise determines normality's routes;

I'm awake, surrounded by sleeping consciousness,

              to be normal by your rules?

                          No, never!

                     Always I refuse!