Nine Years

I see you walking away

While the snow is falling

How could I know

That after nine years

We would hate

Each other

So much that we

Not even share bed

Anymore

Life is so short

And so much time

Will be spent fighting

Small things leading

To conflicts everlasting

Will be our destiny

Can we change

Will we change

I do not know

Time and madness

Will tell

Meeting me

Meeting myself

In the coffee shop

This is me now

Reading a book

About me ten years

Ago and I realized

That I am never gone

Be free, just more

Me

Cleaning Up

Cleaning out the dirt

Destroying and creating

New patternas

I am not going to break down

Again, no

Not anymore

I just have to through it out of the system

All the lose ends being put together

Like a web

 

Metamorfosis

The night is white

Enlighten by the snow

And thousands of lamppost

A cold wind blows

filled with moisture

The clouds travels

Hastily from the west

On the street black shadows passing by

A reminder of the changeable

 

Existens

Sea

The sea is eternal

Waves and water

The same

Since billion years

We are the one

That changes

Not the water

Change

Change is a beautiful thing

And in the same time

A nightmare messing

Up our life, destroying

Safe comfort zones

Moving into the light

What once was hidden

Hiding things that once

Was in the open

Ending ever ongoing

The Stage

Playing on the big stage outside

A place where light and shadow never stands still

Life is always moving, changing

Developing the sensitivity for that

Is an art form

Natural and ever changing light

The essence of who we are

Changes and becomes

Open ended direction

In the eternal changing light

Melting

Fading away into an

Unknown landscape

Traveling to a distant

Place, filled with trees, snow

And strange people

It is strange how different

A city can be. Everything is

Vide spatial visible from

Far away

Familiar and yet different

Whom will I be

When I transformed?

A butterfly or a stone

Maybe an enlighten Buddha

Maybe a madman in rugged cloths

This is not me, this is not you

And still unmistakably it is