Become silent

There is a death poem for all of us & feeling is except a whirl There is the death of a poem for all of us & the whirl is except feeling The opening of the life blinks Cunning and cold It is stiller The shadow Becomes silent Of the No-being Let us look for the letter in the top of the Hill We stamped Pages Y Souls That bend in the air There is Any Destiny Besides the Being Emerson Ehing

Passionata Record