when the wind whistles;
she whistles for you.

its raining streams
rivers
the sea is swelling

I'm so scared
I just don't know it yet.
Spin me around
The vertigo is comforting.
Constant movement and changing
Is good sometimes.

I want to say...
but not the words to be heard
maybe only my mind to be read
because I feel the need so deep
to scream out the secret I keep.

we make a trade in life
in every second of our journey on earth
to buy the things we think we need
just to witness them slowly fade.
we are somehow forced to keep the trading action in control
for no other reason, but feeling sorrow on our own,
thereby,
we trade health with money
youth for old age
pain for tears
a fake smile for pride
a good candy for childhood memories
and the work we do now for what we might have someday.