Go back home!
Where is that...

Why such an old guide?
‘Cause the things I want to see...

I stand on Hellespont
my love sleeps on the other shore...

On a crisp Spring morning on a trail
at a point I was walking my bike...

La Chasse a L’amour
Dancing barefoot on the waves...

She stood silhouetted by the fading sun;
amber light painted her in magical strokes...

Memories continue to assuage the longing
not to say goodbye to the days of youth...

I watch you walk away and wonder
Is it my own selfish pride...

Trotsky left freedom
of exile for the prison...

Standing higher on the pyramid
than officially allowed, yet ignored...

“Dad? What is the meaning of life?”
I used to concern myself with that...

The veil is lifted from my eyes
yet still I do not see the truth...