Snowy Path

On the snowy path
there’s nothing, only silence,
no love, no hate,
nothing that reminds us
of what was, what will come,
was it warm, will it burn…

On the snowy path
there’s nothing but the grey,
no white, no black,
nothing that will make us pray
for what we love and need,
life is frozen, I cannot breathe…

On the snowy path
there is a body of a man,
and as the wind is going wild,
he’ll be far away and calm,
loved once again, a child.



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