The gazelles
Full of grace, of beauty, of speed
On the ground, galloping to the stars far away and eternal
Can
sometimes not escape the
lion
who stands
in their path.
The sunlight of a new, very cold winter morning
The spark of a memory which reveals itself so that it can beat you
Over
and over until you decide
It's too painful to continue like this
I'm going to bleed and fight until
I change
like I have done all these years
Against the will of Hell
Which continues to pull me in its grasp
You will never truly understand what you are looking at
when looking into the eyes of a gazelle.
