From birth, when we open our eyes,
we witness, an out of ordinary surprise.
There is a monster, lurking under the bed.
And every child knows that this is bad.
It’s something we can’t get rid of,
following us at every step.
We’re wondering what it is made of,
so that we can bring it to an end.
On the other side of never-ending street,
with me, walks a lonely shadow.
And it treads, with me,
on this never-ending meadow.
We breath, we feel, we grow,
and the time isn’t passing slow.
Life comes and goes,
Yet the monster is still close.
As we change, it remains the same.
No one knows from where it came.
All our hopes, all our fears,
are quick to fade just like tears.
On the other side of never-ending street,
I see, a shadow of my shadow.
I’m sure we’ll meet,
on this evergreen meadow.
There’s a doubt in my heart.
I’m approaching the dark.
With no desire to give up.
I’m sure life cannot be cut.
Even after the point of no return,
In darkness one day, life will burn.
And like a Phoenix it will rise,
but the moment of truth is not precise.
On the other side of the great beyond,
which is to us the never-ending street,
no death, no evil can ever break the bond
between life and us, for we will certainly meet…
… somewhere on that never-ending street.
Pictures taken from here and here.
