My Promise

I halted, not knowing which time, at the edge of screams and silence.

I do not have words for coming times.

For the first time I don’t have the wish to write something down to move, to enlight the future.

I know that’s only my fault.

That the days behind will not fulfill,

that the another sitting and wining will not lead to satisfaction.

And more and more I hate the probability of returning to the grayness,

to where I didn't know my position and how to walk and this sticky blood is still rolling,

till my lags are trying to keep clouds.

For, at least, I accepted the road through heaven and I grabbed every little cloud that would touch my fingers.

But I do not have fingers and I do not feel them any more,

for someone else is touching my heaven with fake, dead fists.

I’ll keep my promise and I‘ll never stop talking about the truth.

Every decision is stronger than hesitation,

as well as my will of tomorrow's awakening.