I have my way around words, but not around you
my thoughts find their way, maybe one day this will do too
when closing my eyes it slips out my hands
I'm followed by angels to unknown lands
No need to push, I'm walking on icy slopes
searching for something, dragging on hopes
not lonely or lost, nor bitter but split
what's on the other side, I so long to see it!
Unfinished paintings and songs without melody
abandoned by someone, now lying there restlessly
searching the landscape for a signpost to follow
what can a soap bubble do to fill what feels hollow?

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