Castles in Spain look close to collapse,
and Damocles laughs behind my back:
in a dream an angel of darkness
has shown me his sword and my grave.
I’ve a lot to answer for,
but I’m not afraid anymore.
Spring, Light, Peace:
such little words can save.
Cancer. Dancer. Answer.
The Stars. The Wind. The Sea.
Not asking for anything.
This is my best prayer: