I throw memories down the well
And, leaving, I hear the echo of tears
I do not want to have my face
Treading on my own verse
Tied in knots
Like a frightened doe
I run across the glass bridge
To the old place
Where Light and Darkness part
Where sweet dew awaits me
To play a man again
To hear the sound of a horn
To reach the market where dreams are sold
Where they cure aches and memories
You will never hear me laugh
For I still mould my sin
And wait
Wait for you
To cross the glass bridge
Saša Milivojev
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