I sat,
on my window sil,
and as so,
the sun set over the hill.

The first,
rays fo day,
graced my face,
nothing more to say.

The strees,
dead as midnight,
soon filled with souls,
for another day to fight.

The birds,
singing in a choir,
inside me lit,
a lively fire.

My tea,
cold as stone,
the best friend,
here on earth, all alone.

I sat,
on my window sil,
waiting to fall,
my destiny to fulfill.

inimesed,

on katkuks,

ebavajalikud,

ühiskonna jätkuks.

that is all.

and,
as the seconds passed,
everything,
non-apart,
became true,
for I,
and my time,
was,
now due.

it may be,
that summer,
was never meant,
for rest.

it may be,
shallow souls,
are simply,
locks unopened.

it may be,
i am,
nothing worth,
to see.