The growing grass slopes were surmounted br by the sky of death, by confused br thoughts and by a smoking moon.While taking a deep, br crouching breath, a greedy beast started br to eat the world.There br were incessantly blowing shadows br and a wind being emerged from them... br br br On a blind stitch of the night, the man was br following his yellow horse. br br br His outstretched hand painted br the horizon with gestures br while waiting to be filled with misery.The famine br driving through the naked reality became br the cry of this wind. Feared to see br and hoped to be br br at the bottom of this unknown darkness with the levers br of stars threatening the horizon, the sadness br and the itchy confidences. br br As a foot stone, his motionless horse br didn't seem to suffer.The old br man was talking alone. br about his wariness, about the depths, br and about the night of memories. br br With brooding gestures, he tried to understand br the immensity of the unknown. br He pointed a vague and ignored place br populated by people. br br The tabernacle wasn't accessible, br nor was it locked to hide a crouching god, br who wanted to bury his chin and his knees, br while he was staring his eyes off. br br br Some gusts itched the man's back, br This wind could grow while br the blown horizon constantly expanded. br A new dawn started to revive the dead sky br while huge flames were bloodying the darkness br without clarifying the unknown. br br br The man lit a candle.