What this life appears to be
is something strange it is not.
My eyes look out but do not see.
This wasted life is all I’ve got.
What I was one year ago
today I am not anymore.
All things are in flux and flow.
I have no roots, I have no core.
What were these nights before the dawn?
My darkest hours I spend in light.
All precious things have long been gone
I am asking now, is this alright?
What I am today is this –
an author of these boring songs.
Let me jump into abyss.
To no one else my soul belongs.
What has happened here before
these things were in flux and flow?
I am not the same anymore,
my soul has died long time ago.
*Painting – “A troubled soul” by Ferdinand Hodler.