.

When night is dark and full of terrors

When you are alone with your errors

When all will and strength have long vanished

And you are all but tired and famished

Broken into a million pieces

Ended by a somber world of pain

And pressure that always increases

When you missed the passage of the train

And must walk alone a thousand miles

Then your salvation becomes those smiles

No matter who they are or must be

Of the world-bush, they are the berry.

.

Probably a bit too short, rough and incomprehensible but heartfelt. At the image of the muse.