On my way
It is not like
my sorrow has ended.
my sorrow has ended.
The room did not alter
when he came in.
Not anymore.
Words have loosened
and gone are
the invented phrases.
The islands are silent now.
Sea at rest and
the wind is unimposing.
My love is of no use
for him who never was
Not his fault.
My endless journey has
started long before he
dared to dream
in the midst of my rumination,
he walked back to
his true self
