You were a visitor, you own nothing...

The moment when, after many years
of hard work and a long voyage
you stand in the center of your room,
house, half-acre, square mile, island, country,
knowing at last how you got there,
and say, I own this,

is the same moment when the trees unloose
their soft arms from around you,
the birds take back their language,
the cliffs fissure and collapse,
the air moves back from you like a wave
and you can't breathe.

No, they whisper. You own nothing.
You were a visitor, time after time
climbing the hill, planting the flag, proclaiming.
We never belonged to you.
You never found us.
It was always the other way round. 

Tears

Tears of pain run down my cheek,
wishing I was able to hold the one I seek.

Tears from my heart I cry,
left out here alone to die.

Tears I cry from the soul,
wishing my heart was once again whole.

Tasting the tears,
trying to wipe away the fears.

Wondering if I will ever be able to hold the one I love,
wondering if someone will help me from above.

I can't take this anymore, you've won,
Tears run down my cheek, as I will now be gone!