Pinches of an exhausted essence…
of an inert world…
but of a blue sky…

Empty bits…
of nights with candle…
of days without light…

Pieces of frost…
of withered flowers…
of compliments without voice…

Slices of ice…
of a heart without consolation…
of a sadness with pain…

Do not pinch my soul anymore…
do not disturb more my affliction…
because walker,
we will meet on the path…
and then,
perhaps,
I will not have forgotten your wrath…