Mobius Ring - Who Dies in Siberian Slush

Watching the photo burning…

For the fire licks it slowly

Small flames touch the edges

As the growing indigo of the fire swallows the useless sheet

And when the ashes

Become a withered autumn’s leaf

Myriads of dying sparks

Fade away, leaving the emptiness instead

This is the silver burning.

The silver of the past

The broken secrets of life that looked so happy

Life, that appeared to be fake

Past that turned out to be the whole life