every death is <br />a new grave, <br />with digging the hole in ground <br />which it will be <br />necessary to fill, absolutely. <br /> <br />because only down a place will be. <br />we can fly up in dreams, and dreams. <br />or by aeroplane, by balloon, <br />under the condition <br />that we live, and we are doing well. <br /> <br />It can be differently, <br />when on the road we meet <br />our Angel...<br /><br />Maria Barbara Korynt<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/and-up-only-when-you-live/
