Thornwhisper

Rising through a hollow thorn,
gliding through the air,
through the ear inside a man,
sinking slowly to a place
where it hopes to find a heart
which is not hollow

and which understands that

The Cemetery
in
Triebswetter

as a part of our past, needs our help........

But the truth is that we are helpless
because our dead ones are prisoners.
These pages are for a doomed cemetery.