YESTERYEARS V

You are the compassion showered from above,
You are the blessing hand of love,
You are the touch of extreme care,
You are nothing but a prayer,
I want to sing you, yes, I cry...
How can I sing you? Who am I?

YESTERYEARS IV

Can't do otherwise, we just fly
We are birds in the sky
Seeing the world below us thorough
With faded boundaries of sorrow
We fly from a place to another
But though, for a while, we fly together
At last we must fly alone
...that no land is our own

YESTERYEARS III

A losing body suffering loss
A wriggling body on the cross
A skinned body without a doubt
A body tortured inside out
A body that is mutilated
A body that is not cremated
A crippled body lacking charm
A headless body bleeding warm
Is what you get when you walk
Without a halt on the way of truth

YESTERYEARS II

In the desert this endless thirst...

Bleeding feet, bodies in dust...

Can't walk more, we are so hurt,

Life making the final effort...

On the faces many a scar.

Bruised and broken we both are.

Too difficult, there's no doubt...

Death is here, dancing about...

Death within and death without,

There is only one way out: 

Together, side by side, we stand.

Walk with me, give me your hand...

And there won't be a suffering anymore.

And there will be a celebration very pure.

And it will be a carnival rather.

And by and by we'll reach together. 

YESTERYEARS I

I am nothing but a glass.
What you receive is not my own...
Though through me it does pass,
it comes from some place unknown.

Come to me, I am the gate...
which would lead you to the source.
Why do you outside wait?
Just touch me and open the doors.

Hold me, I am but a wire...
I will conduct something through me;
maybe life, or maybe fire,
but the unseen, you will see...

Kiss me as I am eternal...
A faith, a hope, a testament.
Do read me, I am readable,
simple, alive and so ancient.

Do hold me as if I were yours
and hand in hand we walk on shores
as far from all as we can...