Cloak

LISTEN TO - ASCOLTA








The fog on the wood is the cloak of the seeds
I've prayed for three nights to stop to breath
the total loneliness of Samhain
has shown that my life is into the unease

Drenched into the cold I feel my hackles rise
while I wait in silence for the twilit light
the rustling trees announce a new time
while there is a quarrel between death and life

But remember that after the fog comes always a gleam of sun 
you can't believe under the hood that the light is not far 
and I can see that hint before the cry 
but first of then you have to try 

I feel in these days almost totally unmanned
while I know I should be instead hell-bent
I still have to learn to be supple as sand
to change my shape without changing myself

But remember that after the fog comes always a gleam of sun 
you can't believe under the hood that the light is not far 
and I can see that hint before crying 
but first of then you have to try 

2nd November 2019