What are we but frail snowflakes
Which melt at the first glance of
The sun’s rays
Or carried away by a simple blow of
The whistling wind
Disappearing thus in the vastness of
Without ever to leave a single trace of
Their fleeting passage?
Think about it, all over again
And answer me, my dear brother,
My loving sister,
Is it ever worth spending our
Hating each other?
© Demetrios Trifiatis