In a hollow world
Dead are hitting walls,
Moulding faces silently
They are scattering their thoughts.
Their fingers move nervously,
Rooted in gestures,
Furtive and dumb,
They are telling their stories.
They send each other messages,
Which can’t be heard by those who can hear
And in ethereal silence
They are looking for each other.
Yet sinking in silence
They want to break it loudly,
And all of them speak in one voice,
They love each other,
Hidden behind a bonfire,
Made of songs, light and music…