Utopya

They are in an inverted dimension
here the trees are black.
I walk along this red corridor,
in the darkness,
so many dark rooms:
gray shapes with white eyes
they cry, their mouth is sealed
 and to crown their heads
shiny red horns.
Inexpressive plastic
lost in the corners,
chained to a mirror.
to the right:
flashing lights,
strange people are held
they support their big head,
their body is small,
their gaze is lost on the horizon
And they wear a small smile.
In front of me,
the roots are the branches,
I hear a warm voice
tells us that we are finally free.