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Mechanical travel
Into an old house
Now I'm walking.
I can hear your voice
Between the sounds
Memories and promises are flooding me.
It's a vision of a spate.
Gray leaves are on my past.
Now take my hand
And I'll lead you in a world where God is one of us.
Deep inside.
The image of mine is a circle never understood
Visions of you.
A kind of tragedy
A bottomless well.
I see a desert and a felled tree
Without a forest the sun is burning it.
Now take my hand
As you are starting another travel.
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