czwartek, 7 czerwca 2012

Somewhere in the Forest

Sour winds more bitter than memory
Catching the thoughts in icicles
Trees wrinkled with time
Or maybe bullets are still looking for their way out
Of the forest
Forgive the others, forgive yourself
Your troop is far away
Your country is a distant illusion
Winds will melt diamond tears
Do windmills care which state they grind in?
Scattered stones scar the slopes
But no-one clears the moss
Under the starred blue sky
We're children of the void

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