A multitude of fortnights passed us by,
We passents of time, our sorrow, we tried.
A spell of brief written touches.
Time and space were arranged.
The earth turned and turned.
Time and space were burned.
The wind ceased carrying sound.
......
A multitude of fortnights passed us by,
We passents of time, our sorrow, we tried.
A spell of brief written touches.
Time and space were arranged.
The earth turned and turned.
Time and space were burned.
The wind ceased carrying sound.
......