Humanity| is it for what we yearn
held in whispers, a dream's concern.

Is| it the scenery where dreams' seeds grow out at night,
or a place of naked thoughts, where no one can hide?

Just| a remedy where our freedom is sold,
where these hopes stay and never get old ?

A| faith where one is confronted with the loss of light,
deprived of fearful tolls, his heart quiet like the night ?

Word| after word fades away in a chaotic scheme,
till there is nothing left, the end of one's eternity.