Far-off from the world,
Wearing the scratches of feelings,
a storyteller
lies shrunk in a corner
...
Death Of A Story
Far-off from the world,
Wearing the scratches of feelings,
a storyteller
lies shrunk in a corner
absorbed into the walls,
none to listen to, none to speak to.
Unwinding with the folds of the night,
The dark grief
hurls stones at the moon.
The goddess is cruel tonight,
she has shut her ears,
and turned off the light.
The storyteller's words
remained trembling on his lips.
With twilight will rise the sleepy
and tell the tales of their dreams.
The absence of a listener,
the absence of a dream
made the story teller so tired.
He needs a million years sleep…