I talk in my sleep,

I recorded it and then --


quickly erased it.

My foe shows no light,

but I do sense some little --


dark within myself.

The world is too tight,

would I be too big for it --


or can it still grow?

You cry in your sleep,

that is a side of yourself --


that you don't know yet.

At most I myself

catch what I mean, with you it's --


misunderstandings.

Interrogators

give you a magnifier --


to observe yourself.

Living to the full,

always searching for balance --


and finding myself.

You don't live to get

to know yourself, nonetheless --


it is part of it.

Light thrives in the dark
by finding its way through the brenches
of a dense forest

Light thrives in the dark
by passing through the windows
of a wintered house

Light only strikes you
when you finally get to know
projected on the path you've always walked
your long buried shadow