Land
I open this book that was once read,
And within it, I find
A flower that has withered,
And I remember all of it.
In the springtime of our days,
When friends
Walked as brothers,
Step by step,
Paving the way in life.
We could be anything,
And yet we weren't quite there.
But now, in the winter,
I see those who were left behind,
And I no longer recognize myself
Next to them.
When this book closes,
I will walk with sure steps
To sleep eternally
In the house of all.
Where everything began,
And perhaps could return to be
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