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Friends of stones

It is not a paradise
although the sing of birds
It is not the Hell
although the song of birds
although the sound of waves
it is only our world
with many songs in the sky
with many birds in the dream
with many birds in really

It ‘s here that we are living
we are little, very little
we are old, very old
we are wandering,
wandering and loving
this space

we are also
friends of stones
friends of rocks

Fear is with us
But what fear?
A fear sweet
A fear black
or another fear?

Where is the fire of the fear?
Where is the fear of the fear?
Into our World
in a deep of monster

nobody know this
in this world of the words
in this words of the world
but what fear screechs
here and now
without your hands
of red sun?

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