...for a book,
no name given.
To the right
and a handshake
to be walked in opposite directions.
How can Freedom
be so simple and hated
by those from whom it is given?
...Preaching for Peace as a State of Mind,
who knows what happens to us
when we die.
But for the body's degradation
and the final murmur of the steady beat
that quiets down to a defening silence.
There are no answers for these theories
of Faith and Religion,
but belief, blind or not,
and a hope to awaken again.
...no bridge will mend the distance
for your name now bares the dust
of some whispers lost at sea.
...by the mirror of our words,
we reflected on the image proposed.
The waters rose
and all thorns flowed
to a colour of zero.
As empty as the sun in the ocean's depth,
so soon forgotten
with nothing left,
the wall you built by the crevaces,
with trenches and weapons to defend,
All empires crumble
and your millenia burns accross the sea.
Today became Forever
and your venom bore no seed.
Your voice still rings empty.
Your voice, sill... gone... silent.
...forgive your name
from that of which you were born,
the father's crimes
be not your own.
How such a landscape
be ruined by those who made history.
How such a beauty become scarred
and yet, not forgotten
...when is the last time you felt free?
asked the man to the prisionner.
when I wrote it
...there is no Silence in this Hour
and I do not know where it comes from
The windows are open,
but for a Western breeze
...moving to the sound of Silence,
moving to the Unconscious Beat,
tossing and turning
without knowledge nor memory...
Dancing in my sleep