In a year of deeds hungrily punished
Time flew into my face
And sliced through my skin
And grabbed my face until it was aligned to death’s
And I lived on into endless duress,
And now there is nothing but the most veiling shelter
Endless smashed drops upon a human shield
In a perfect meadow
A nimbus of forests and lakes,
Of disinterested perfection
And somewhere, so far away that that place cannot be reached
Is a bloody corpse of a past tortured to death
For such a sweet present.
Now, there is more than just one soul that rests in peace.
And thus the flux of time with all its malignant tragedies have taught me
What endless volumes could not:
Peace is not only bought with death
It can also be bought with courage.