My view hinges on my capricious mood

it dazzles, baffles

blue turns into purple until

a thorough blackness is uncovered

not just black, but black as black

something signifies a loss

while it's certainly connected

with what we call a future -

chances, possibilities

leaves fall, the branch

will have 'em grown again

mother, mother, can't you

give birth to me  again

once again

why isn't she a branch

we only fall from ourselves

into the abyss we dig ourselves

into the abyss I am myself

Gedicht: Justus Raapgaarde

Tekening: Petr Flynn