Digging through the silent dream,
the place where it could put you in
with damned hands, invisible weight
both known to me but more
like some old blurred memory.
What are they made of? They keep coming back…
When will it stops? And turn on the new light
No eyes to see, nor ears to hear
My last breath, ( last breath went ) went silently
…those lucid trips stuck and not forgotten
As raindrops enter the void among the grains of sand,
and vanish into the land, disappearing on and on again
never really drowned, neither aware, am I a memory,
or just gone away?
eyes to see, ears to hear, last breath, silently
