Naked Hands

Astarte

Wondering hands, the trees!

The naked stones of grey beauty,

Gathered to kiss the ground's hunger.

Extatic hate upon man's reply.

The war against human instinct.

I summon the dirty blood of what we are covered.



Still I watch the sky

I see within a cry.

For what we fear!

For the why we leave!



Naked hands, the forgotten trees.

Stare as I paint the last eagle.

The symbol of life

The black sign of the sky.

A last leaf of a tree,

The only breath left.



Questions have been made to give no answers

On the hill I gaze the fortress

Made by Nature's hands.



It stares useless for the weak ones,

But precious for those who know the way.



Still! I watch the sky,

I see without wanting to cry.

For what we still believe,

For the reason we live