what is forever? what is eternal?
what a mystical strange question
a neverending search in the time
over the dusty shelves of solitude library
the holy book with an old binding, torn papers
as if waiting a noble hand to serve itself
from the first page it crowns the whole alchemy
even reigns with unknown words of an unknown alphabet
has her secret power without God
as if she says
'i am the one what is eternal'
a prophet with innocent hands
opened her hard cover softly
fearing to hurt her Angellike flesh
the smell of holy dust inside
hardly breathed, yet unwillingly lungs had
as if they knew her secret against God
flowers, sun, sea and all the life elements
incurably had that spell on the own soul
cruel the time, celebrated that funeral
as if he knows
she is the one what is eternal
as long as you believe...