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The wait of the winter whitened my path

As the journey felt my print in the snow,

The fog drowned the heartbeat and hissed,

Hours led to minutes, saw the feet in the winds.

The eyeless crow shall cry your name in red

Through landscape, through death you have fed.

As expecting those words of freedom that bind,

Rippling leaves of lust found you caught and blind.

Howls of owls where green forests begin

To ascend onto a hill to await your promise.

Break their eyes, beg for no lives and scream

While in smoke the true warmth renews to grow.

Thrive, dive into the light

And grind the stone.

Wash, wash the bone,

The meat, the lie.

Denial through entrails in the aisle of trees.

The roots, the bones, the sorrow that it leaves,

In them it hides the secrets of souls captured.