Where there's turmoil, I have withdrawn. Turned away, Shaken my sandals. Choice is what I gave man, Choice of life to the fullest And choice of a wasteland. Choice of being in my garden, Obedience. Choice of aimless wondering, Clueless. Reason , the enemy calls it reason. Glitter ball, illusion That man is as big as me. Deflated, loud crash-landing. Reality, reason is not of me, For I am bigger, Bigger than mountains. My reality moves mountains. Sylvie Croslard