I wait for deathlike a lover waitsfor lovealone in his roomfondling a piece ofcurtainor by the train trackskicking pebblesunder the sun.

Life is no more than a songperformed in an open garden.

Sometimesa manhas to fightso hardfor lifethat he forgetsto live it.

GoingBack andForthBetweenHereAnd the valleyOf the deadTo seekHidden answersTo eternalQuestions