poetry of language
 it happend.

through imagination...
 as you would call it,
 men will be the same,
 as before they crossed the stars,
 built the bridges to their past...

you're no master anymore,
when slaves do your masterful way.
but too late it is now,
you run away...
I'll get you...
sooner or later...
but it is not your conditions anymore,

if I am to
CATCH You!