Sky flames
and endless frames
by the river glittering
into ashes in vain.
Stone walls
of dull concrete
written down perfectly,
waiting up silently.
Pages and pages
I’ve been trying hard
but not enough –
may the Gods be my guard.
Shadow on the light
just standing unbothered
there across fields of thought,
there only existing to be colored.
And I see her dancing
the wary forest fairy
pleasantly stepping and waltzing
right into my shallow endings.
Who are they
if I’m becoming a stranger to I,
not only to the running wolves
or the mountain witches wild.
Proudly looking eyes
pierce through my bones and skin
but that is just another stranger
mirroring himself about a sin.
As the paper sheet turns darker
the heart is doing so,
not lucky to make amends,
not ready to take a bow.
So take these trembling hands
as long as the sun can shine
because none of it will be here
when tomorrow comes by.
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