alone

kind the night

gives light on your coffin, wide

as all of you here in this place

deprived of you, I remain moss

that doesn’t know anymore where to grow.

how to cry

and tell me how to cry, because I don’t know how:

once I was different and now, here, I’m a little broken

stone, waiting for the sea.

a little careful the sea

and the wave crushes many times on the same rock

always the same one

always the same;

the cliff distracts the rain

and coming less the air has the same your footprint

when you go away.