It was the final point of my path,
The horses reared up thus I was thrown
Like the sun striking little darts
From the armor-plating's coat.
The horses' hooves were echoed round the weald
And I got up and waited for the end,
My sick limbs were as heavy as lead
"My time is near" - I finally decided.
I had no defence against this game,
The vail people and worthless life,
I lost my faith in Goodness and the right
And I refused to go back again.
The sudden voice approaching through the sun
That pierced into my frightened soul,
It was the little child's cry
Foreboding the new life and people's hope.
Then I moved again in the way,
Holding this angelic child,
And believing that this love will cure
All the wounds of our complex time.
2015/jan