Poezja

        And I was created weak,
       such that none shall seek.
 
 
     My weaknesses are so mine;
   -a furious wrath as old as time.
 
 
     You are there by stream blue
   where words in mind come true.
 
 
     Come, see the endless below
      learn, understand and know.
 
 
        Sense this belief as it flies
        and tell me what else lies.
 
      
          Touch me as I agonize;
     -that fire shall never suffice.
 
 
    I am lost for essence’s echoes;
-show me that stream not shadows.
 
-Nr.