Dear Shane, you will get well.
You have a long battle ahead.
Fight it with all your might.
Don't give up.

Look straight into the eye of death.
Tell it to go back.

Ask death to come -

when you are 100 years old,
when all your hair turns silver,
and all your teeth fall off.

That is when you will meet death, smiling.

Happy families, smiling,
enjoying time together,
atmosphere filled with their laughter.

And then -

in a moment of madness,
all silenced.

Bullets took over,
dead bodies lying all around.

Terror strikes the land
we call "Paradise on Earth."

Once I dreamed of a world
filled with canvas and colours.
A dream to bring to life,
blank canvases with various shades and hues.
To let my paint brush speak for me.
To use up all my time,
to create landscapes, seascapes and portraits.

A distant dream it was, now broken.
My canvas remained blank,
my palette remained empty.

Let my heart fill with joy.
Let go of all the sorrows.
If hope keeps the world alive,
fill my heart with hope.

Your memories still bring tears to my eyes,
please remove them from my heart.
Set my aching heart free,
let it be whole again.

The gentle white pages
of the humble,fragile books
contain all the wisdom of the world -

The custodian of our history.
The proof of our existence.

Silence speaks...



Just listen.

When everything dies,
hope remains...
When hope dies,
what remains?