working backstage
out of sight

contented.

you can watch killing all day long
and if you feel anything but sorrow
-you are surely lost in the forest.

the singing is on the lips of the reader
-as they go their way

(if your song has made its mark
-releasing some-ones heart)

distant stars do their thing
irrespective of our gaze

their fire burns in black
until they too become one with the deep black

many stars have come and gone
taking a guess of course

a hermits candle flame
does the same.

there is nowhere to hide
plenty of places to run to

but ultimately
nowhere to hide

you carry your own baggage
seek your path

and the road will unfold
one way or another

you may not travel far along it
but at least you tried

and trying is all there is
before you depart.