Kurt Philip Behm

Fate At Its Limit

My ear

to the asphalt

My nose

in the wind

 

My mind

on tomorrow

Escaping

my sins

 

The road bends

before me

It twists

and it turns

 

Where truth

waits forbidden

And love stays

unearned

 

The voices

grow faint

In this gale

to escape

 

In front

and behind me

Both early

and late

 

As the mountain

implores me

Still calling

my name

 

With fate

at its limit

And death

— here to claim

 

(Dreamsleep: April, 2025)