I´m

Photo: Tibu Borgstén


My fingertips are empty

and my very own voice is blowing somewhere

in the winds

meanwhile my soul is muffling

me around and away from

all the sorrow that surrounds

me.

My steps are written

on the ground of the forrest

where the October leaves

leave their colors on the

bare rocks

that reminds me of

times that has passed.

I´m here

without words.

I´m still.

I´m whaiting

for my soul to dance back

into my heart
again.