Nothing

The scientists made a big discovery and they jumped to the conclusion: there is no human soul out there
Only a fiction embracing a hill or a cottage
A broken wave
A slice of moon drawn with chalk on the asphalt
A shadow inventing other shadows
The memory of the unlived happiness
The rotten taste of the break offs

We can talk about gravitation and death
These things exist for real
alike numberless biological and geological species
theorems, molecules, bacteria and odd numbers
but such thing as soul does not exist.

Yet, in spite of the scientific expertise
Only this improbable soul can make the difference between a stone and a mountain
between a bird and a flying machine
Only this being that doesn’t exist but can laugh
knows that the rain is the other name of the solitude
Only this being might be able to prove
The existence of birds
The existence of waters
The existence of the moon
The existence of the damned
The existence of the springtime

Only this nothing
Endures everything

How is it possible to feel the pain something inexistent?

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