Paler than winter,
with breath to match,
she emerges from such whiteness,
there, at the edge of trees…
On gloomy autumn evenings,
When on the deserted streets
Under a dark stormy sky
You will not meet a soul in this town…
If Armageddon
becomes something more
than an idea
I'll fly to Mars…
I look out at my children, and how they play with their children.
I stare into the living room, completely frozen.
I haven't blinked for years and my eyes are like sandpaper…