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■ The oak
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Your happy moments force the side of fate
When battles are for you a senseless cry For what they've nursed in front of common gate; Now take a chance to mourn and then to sigh. Psychotic hopes we shared during that day - A voiceless cell with darkness in your glance; I took some mud with me for them to pay The priceless sign of gathering in trance. Within those roots I laid from dream to dream As if my home were nothing but a sleep - From wounds I hear a never-ending scream That burst a song to whom you'll stay in heap Like ghastly roses in the land of shape Which go with man as gently as a rape. 20.06.2008
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