Words caress something that is not.
Rythme is lost in a single blow.
Could you take it back..
Those words you tell?
Are they true?

Exisiting is.
Dying is.
Love is.
Hate is.
Powerful.

Stretching to the bounderies..
We are full of everything.
Bursting,
Screaming,
Stammering...

All will be gone....
But all is not lost,
Yet.