Zywa
In the light of the moon
I carried enough
buckets today
Sometimes they are heavy
Nothing to do about it
One time I will come
to know a bit, little bit
about the content
and then it remains the question whether
I would have wanted to know it before
In bed I mount
my horse, my banner
in the holder, flapping
in the speed of my wishes
lighting up in the night
of impossibilities
and a new start
The moon leads me
It empties the buckets
so that I have nothing
to lose and can jump
-- over my worries
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