The farther we reach the longer we stretch, said the wind
We are moving towards our inner spin, where all energetic beams are dissolved
By the dense frequency we expire from the fog of the flint
We are more like clouds than their wound evolved
Rolling over sharp fences, our disarrayed mind clings
the nearest become the farthest, the rain become stoned
Then all feelings are set apart, they start to limp
The arrows of loneliness form our love, loved.