My Glance into the Narrow Room - Troll

Vandrende, alene.

Herre over egen skjebne.

Fortsatt kun for noen,

simpelten en brikke plassert i live

for Ґ flyttes.

Akk sҐ snevre grenser,

usmmelig Ґ tye.

«Sannheten"florerer der,

bak fasadens murer.

Tabu’s palasser,

skriker etter sjeler.

Arvede normer, altsҐ plagiat!

Hvem bygde sҐ en sҐdan bremsekloss

pҐ «vҐr"klode?

Hvem forpurret individ?

Hvem kalket sine vegger

og kalte dem for rene?

Prikker pҐ en mҐne,

ubetydelig luft!

Men svarene det har de,

plantet godt i hug.

Tappet for evulosjon,

som en elv av olje…

Substans av fortid.

Slikt ett lite univers.

Slik en praktisk fabrikert tilv¦relse.

Slikt et falmet paradoks.

Og for dette skal man strebe!?!

Wandering, alone.

Lord of his own destiny.

Still only for some,

simply a piece placed alive

to be moved.

Alas, so narrow boundaries,

usmmelig Ґ tye.

The "truth" abounds there,

behind the walls of the facade.

Taboo’s palaces,

screaming for souls.

Inherited norms, ie plagiarism!

Who built such a brake pad

on "our" globe?

Who thwarted individual?

Who whitewashed their walls

and called them pure?

Dots on a moon,

insignificant air!

But the answers they have,

planted well cut.

Lost for evolution,

like a river of oil…

Substance of past.

Such a small universe.

Such a practically fabricated existence.

Such a faded paradox.

And for this one must strive!?!