The sheeps stand now,
together in space,
while we remain small
and confined to one place.
Forever the servants (We are and remain crying)
never to let the sunn shine,
and left for ages dying.
My soul and mind as always are fighting
for who to blame for our disgrace and lonely crying.
As all things that happen,
end out in failure and uneasy devouring.
Alone, in the smoke,
without her cares despairing;
but always I'm sure, in silent devotion I will wait for her.
No comments:
Post a Comment