There are many forms of nightmares

Some of them visible in full daylight

Tired of not sleeping

Being awake and having vague

Foreboding of something

Much more sinister

But the reality is ambiguous

Hard to interpret a deeper


Eternal Crisis

The crisis is like an ongoing dream

A never ending continuous process

Nightmare and adventure

At the very same time

The summer always surprises us

Creating a new saga

Every time

But before that comes the hard

Adoption the a new unknown

Reality that replaces

The reality as it once was

The hope of being me

It is a hard thing
Being me
Whatever this means
On this planet
This lonely place
In the outskirts
Of  the universe
The days are passing
So slowly
The shadows growing by the day
Withering stages of decay
Around me
The birds starts singing
And the spring breaks in.


Writing in quiet
This is me now
not as before,   
I am different now
I believe
this is of no
any more