Edvard Einarson Poems

a narrow road down the hills.
by its side cried an oaktree.
the wind brought its leaves to soil.
it stood alone in shadow.
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i am vacant in mind. i can't percieve the words of the mist that is my thoughts. i don't fear the worst but i expect it and search shelter from it. solitude has left me wounded and numbed.

i can't relate to them anymore. though it is not them that have altered or me that have amended. i have no connection with them and they have none with me. what is sanity to them is not to me but daft, deranged and nonvolatile. but since they are all else, then it is me who are delirious?
...