Only The Dead In The Mist
Anna-Varney Cantodea
Old, senseless thoughts,
half frozen in loneliness,
faster and faster we're spinning in circles;
imprisioned in pain,
floating without sound ... -
the dead in the mist... aimlessly wandering around.
Our sad eyes say: "we have lost our view!"
Dead souls without rest... -
the graves are lonely... and cold.
But the promised peace
I'm afraid we'll never find,
for this place... it lies so far... beyond the cruellest light...