A space inhabited by hope. The traditional white light at the end of the tunnel flashes on the highway of mishaps.
There are still children lulled by the rhythm of the holders of childish speech.
Beyond the top of devastated trees, roots always keep their secrets to grow.
Raise his fist with a heart full of desire.
Disappointment rained in these days of winter ... it remains solid building of a new being that rebound from its ashes, like the old phoenix from stories of our past.