Morning
Morning
The new white sun,
climbs over the hills
and mountains in the distance,
to spread its brilliant bright rays
over the land.
Some embrace the moment
and look straight into the sky.
Others run to their holes in the ground.
There are traces of their passing
all around.
Time is stretching in a funny way,
I want to say,
I want to describe,
I want to hide as well,
as there is no reason to believe
that hell has not been let go.
Tears fill my eyes,
as the years have gone by
too fast.
I believe now...
they were never meant to last.
That is the reason we treasure,
the pleasure of remembering,
everything the way it should be,
and not as it is in our memory.
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