I am carving the letters of your name
in each wooden board of my own wood path
a path I am laying day by day, night by night
on deceptive clouds in the heights of my illusion,
high above that netherworld of what is humble life
in which everything is so unbearably real
a wood path - heading from my dream to that of yours?
never reaching it and a glance can be no bridge
to fill the chasm between what will not unite
and so will my wood path, for I do not want to see
and so every board I lay instantly begins to rot
and so every step I take bends the next board
the further I go, the more they bend, about to brake
not yet maybe, but Icarus' fate shall be that of mine!
and when I fall
will I fall back again on the naked plains of reason?
or will I be smashed on the cliffs of sin? erected by those
who condemn and shall therefore be condemned.
or will I be caught by the arms of the ever saving goddess?
our lady of those who do not deserve compassion
who always has an eye on me
who will see me, when I fall
and I fall
while you will stand and watch. somewhere up there in the
heights of my own cannot-be-world that I will have to fall from
sooner or later, deeper or even deeper. while you will watch.
(for to fall not to fly is the law!)