Noting is real
Crawling into my thoughts
The knowledge of yesterdaythe fear of tomorrow
The pain of today
Mountains in deeper knowledge of solitude
Which conjure up the end
This is a eerie white noise
Black covered horizons
Getting the dreams of a million
Wisdom means to feel a constant pain
Coldness, emptiness,
Despairing and full of agony
The blurred visions
Of a landscape born in white
is making me so sad