domingo, 4 de enero de 2015


in the middle of winter
the branches shelter the path
make it hallowed  

the vast immensity of the white fields
fill the abyss with the voice of silence

solitude friend of the soul

this passage in time will soon be vanished
only to start all over again and again

life  ephemeral   rebellious   anarchic

who cares

now I am only aware of my pen
and this piece of paper
I am myself afresh