We whisper to the wind

with words that have meaning

only when you're forlorn

absent feeling and understanding

These years made us

what we are

and how we look upon

this ugly world with derision

forges you emptier

and the road streches

towards a deadly river

where no one has anything to call their own.

And the ashes by your side become a dirge for sorrow

When you raise your voice to praise the pale morrow.


If the ethereal silk frees you,

time has begun again

You could hide to shredded darkness

You could hide into the night

when lips caress and faces bloom.

Your face is covered with joy

Adorned with the reflections of the sun.

I will always be here.