In the great winter night,
Opened skies scream to the willowed avalanches,
Where the people die mourning their loved ones.
Leaves didn’t fall that afternoon in december,
Nor did the bodies strung up on the desert floor,
Sand seeps into wounds and makes the blind cry for their mothers,
Fashioned in a new way to see the world go round,
I opened fantasy and mirror alike,
Be the end of the apart to be like him.
Fathomed the decrepit faces of god,
To end sorrow and begin the suffering,
To walk sad and melancholy amongst the grass of yesterday.
You are nothing but me in a shell of gander,
Free your arms to the sky,
Wish upon a star.
Create in the oceans a feeling of peace and serenity,
To opened eyes that scream for mother,