A new series from Robert Müller
Does anyone know the way home? Can anyone recall when it was traveled last? The light is dying – the cold is coming fast. I wish I could remember the way home. Every path seems to wander free Far from where I long to be Spiral inward to that place – A mother’s touch, a… Read More Home
How was I supposed to knowThe time would simply come and go?With so much future in my past,How was I to know? How was I to realizeWhat grows so high must one day dieAnd fall in ashes just like snow?How was I to know? I just want to hold your handLike I did way back… Read More Regret
… the only listening eyes are mine.
Marking my day by the length of the shadows stretched over the fields of my past.