Beryl Jacob

The wind starts at the direction he likes
and goes to the direction where it wants
We don't know where it start or go
...

When it become late evening
I went to my terrace, for a walk
I saw clouds coming together and it was dark
The sun dissappeared
...

Death is the end of the track
We are like trains with no brakes
Moving forward
The train will have lots of difficulty
...

In the last hour of the day
I was waiting for a train
I waited for minutes
Suddenly I heard the horn of the train
...

In a silent night
The walker man went to the terrace
He goes in different ways
Until his legs get pain
...