Poem
for Leszek
transformed from dead ice I touch ground of grey
a daybreak has scattered in tears’ pearls of pain
blood plays a song old like the first breath of hell
sang by the angels so sad and despaired
they stick around the ground and stare at the stars
blinking in sparkles and each angel cries
longing for sunrise of warm and bright sun
promised in night dreams that never burnt out
no longer is hell when heaven has vanished
hope and desperation like clouds mix to perish
and winds of time howl in sky scraping towers
a song of the lost and exiled by Father
I walk among snow and trees of ice blue
looking in depth of the mysteries so new
stretching out wings made of silver and bright
wanting to soar into endless new flight
