Those faces
run to liquid dark inside from blood
Their ghosts
behaving any sin
From voices
they are leaden without clear opinion
draining in ambition
fallen from fatal hills
hidden in hypnotic spells
through rain or sand they keep on walking
not one look pleasures the air
the ground must be torn from bitter eyes
SPEED and TIME became most
important treasures
JOY and REST got lost along the way
Just one little girl stands watching in the crowd
dost she belong to facing dreams
the wind covers her hair with rush
too sudden may she forget to feel
the endless time
