I’m learning to take out verses of my ashes,
To die without anger nor hope.
And now, lonely, sad, without love,
I’m going from the harbour to the fog,
My boat is not my boat,
My flag carries your coldness,
The back you have turned on me,
And every day I have to make up a name
To call myself, to push me through
This city which hurts my pride,
showing me your face
at every bend I take
To remind me of my storm;
I’m the unknown one who sometimes talks to you,
And always sails the darkness of your pain.