GREAT SOUL IN MY COUNTRY 2 © 2008

I have the perception of things past, in distant childhood,

Writing in notebooks, traces of constant purity,

How wonderful it was to write in full innocence,

Where each word flowed, without pain or regret.

Now, the pain within me takes hold, relentless and cold,

Seeing words in resignation, losing their magic,

And I ask myself, where is the resistance of yesteryear?

That inner strength which writing always brings forth?

I miss the lightness, the charm of writing,

When the pen glided, without fear,

Now, the struggle is harsh, each verse a battle,

And the resistance I once had seems to scatter.

---

Play

---