Photographer Iveta Niklova
Who will catch my words when they are taken away with the blowing wind?
Where shall my letters end when they swirl around.
Shall there be someone who will feel the authenticity of my meaning of all my words.
Who will taste my tears, catch my smiling moments what I wrote from out my heart?
Where shall my poems end when they whirl freely around.
Shall there be someone who will pick up my some pieces of my soul?
Knowing that my destiny already has signed?
Shall there be someone who deliver me to the man who is already crowned?
Where my words shall be heard when they sing back to his birds.
Who can puzzle every single letter together when it's fallen apart.
Where new written poems shall be lifted from the ground.
Carried away over the ocean with the blowing wind to become whole.