- Carolin Rechberg
The foul turn into fruit
I was ones caught in a storm which tore my heart
Which was already worn
Shivering stickiness
Of hardships experienced in loneliness
Yes reflected in the journeys of each others souls
But yet alone forlorn
Rifting in the destined drift
Carrying us and being made to carry by us. The fruitful turned into the foul if fought in the current of how life evolves