Life is empty
But full of commotion
Happenings, events and funerals
People are dying and
Some others are being born
And in between where most of us are
Time passes by like the sun and
The moon
The Great Commotion
Patience
Patience is a great art
And the perfect trap
One can wait forever
Without receiving anything
Patient must be combined
With passion and action
Only then does it have
Any meaning
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The Great Battle
Fighting as an underdog
Creating an inner peace
The fight seem so pure
Inside me I find peace
Even when losing
I feel alive
Alas beaten up
The wind is cold
And my body warm
Like when making
Love
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Passions
I want to have passion
In my love
Feeling the joy of
Making love
In the forest
While the summer
Is still here
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Being Free
Things are getting worse and worse
But here I am in the middle of it
It demands my whole being
I am looked in darkness
Dwelling among all the things
That has to be done and learned
I am sorry for this
But happy in the same time
This is me being free
In my own created prison
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The Creatures of the Night
The middle of the night
When the wolf
Walks into the mind
Making havoc
Catching a hen or two
Leaving before dawn
Satisfied with meat and
The pleasures of hunting
No limits
Only my tired body
Remains at the site
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Unable To
Tired of seeing
What is going
To be
Without being
Able to change
Anything
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Now and then
The future
Always uncertain
Always in the past
Going backwards
into what is
Going to be
Most things will
No be
Only love will be
Now and then
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On Ice cream
Passion is a fake thing
Just like love
Still we need it
To survive in this
Complicated world
So full of traps and illusions
Just like ice cream is a
Substitute that
Becomes something
By itself
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Watching
Lost passions
Just watching
The trees grow and
The people tumble around
Fulfilling their desires
Soon the dusk sets in
Passing quickly away
For the night
Schibolet 