Brockengespenst, or mountain spectre Unchanging, the silence stands on the mountains Colourful things and thoughts tap on your forehead You walk and feel the air tighten around your teeth. Twenty years behind you of wandering, of closing your eyes before the slow ending of the world. The fog covers memories, Covers words, covers yearnings, covers fears. Blow away your hair, here silence stands and watches. How heavy all those years are, how much heavier those that still wait, You move a foot and feel the future echoing beneath, an unknown name You will belong to. Here, the mountains hold time between their peaks and show That nothing happens if nothing changes. An eternity is carried between cracks of rock and darkness, between cold, moss, cloud and bone.
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