Religions are the shadows
cast by the candle of Truth...

All speech is made
to vanish...

I am not looking for happiness.
Happiness is looking for me...

We are Samuel Beckett’s Waiting for Godot,
the “Waiting for the Anti-Christ” deluxe...

Justice
is the human ability...

Forests in suits,
trees dressed in metal...

Why is it
that never and always...

(a hymn from the Book of the Crossroads)
Here I go...

When all the bubbles burst,
in far-off islands...

The memory of your laughter
devours the miles...

Oh,
my chest...

My brothers,
my sisters...