When you were small, you knew all you knew.
And the dogs never got on your tracks.
Now you are open, you've thrown aside your shield.
You do not remember who is right and who is blind.
You have hanged the shooting mark on your breast.
One has only to draw the bow.
You are the walking target, you are sure your path is right.
But those who are not asleep do not need your garden
Since there are neither flowers nor stones in it.
And even your god did not help anyone-
There are others-lighter and stronger.
That is why you are in emptiness-like in an old forgotten canvas.
Neither in the beginning, nor in the center, not even in the very end