13 May 2012
Walking down the path
the stones formed,
each one with a name,
underneath nothing left.
Stepping on the grass
that will soon be yours:
Where all the shadows
will stand.
Where all the flowers
will come by.
Where all the prayers
will echo
and bounce off the sky,
some heard, some not.
Who will know but God,
If this was his only escape,
the only way,
to end his pain.
Opuss № I