(« God, suspended in the clouds, creates light. » by Thomas de Leu)

what was there left to do
standing at the summit
but to reach for the sky
up above infinite

what was there left to do
at the edge of the land
but to keep on going
and defy gravity

what was there left to do
at the end of the road
but to invent a bridge
onto a higher world

what was there left to do
at the death of a hope
but welcome the visit
of the ghost of a chance

what was there left to do
at the crush of a love
but to try to redeem
all the sins of the dove

what was there left to do
at the end of the dream
but to break the machine
that had torn us apart

what was there left to do
at the total collapse
but marvel at the sky
up above infinite

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