Wait

I've to stop, to hear my own murmur,
And the quiet protest of my mind.


As if there were a whirlwind in my stomach,
I refuse to stop, inexplicably.


Maybe I have grown used to this journey,
A never ending journey.
A journey without arrival and departure.


And so I sigh,
Rest, since further and further away,
Like a star in an unreachable galaxy.


Or, to rest, is tiring and exhausting as well.