The winds uncharted soul


illuminates the suns
of our winter.
How long this longing shall stretch?
castles they are building now
and within walls of icicles,
fate they will want to decide.
All is with love,
All is with love…
metal cables and odourless silicone
All is with love,
All is with love…
But symbolic beings
believe in systematic beginnings
For always too late to wake up, for too late they
figure;
So passes the crescent of aeons
From elders in dead cities
to uncanny molecules…