fresh morning, slowly awaking from a deep sleep, her heap of dreams is waiting for a waft of wind.
feeling like an old person in his final, dealing with dull memories of my life, to dust i shall return.
feeling so small in this world so big, i’m facing the silver deep rising all around me, will it consume me or carry me on ?
floating high above in splendour, the passing years relentlessly wear out my mind, i feel the soft breath of eternal life.
standing here along the seashore, surrounded by slapping waves and howling winds, i feel like an illusion in a world of disillusion.
strolling on the legendary paths, i perceive whispers from imaginary creatures, ancient symbols from a forgotten world.