Solace / In the dense of winter rain / sacred is the ritual / some ruins of Sarajevo / Dim in the attic, where the sign Of Time alone is daydreaming on its own / someone whispered: Anima, animus; You were The Truth / upon whose hands do we seek redemption? / a far off Nostalgia swallowing her own Black Orchid’s nectar / withering with the seclusion of dreams & the space...