My anchor is the soul
on my little boat
above the unconscious
the great lake
Storms come equally
from inside
the senses from the outside
through the umbilical cord
to the outside world
having hope is a waste
from time
i am time
in my short time
the invisible
must have an equivalent
have inside me
the brain has to learn
with the feeling
to work together
I obey the soul alone
I don't let myself
of worldly power
nor by the spiritually powerful
take by the hand
i go with my fear
since my childhood
hand in hand
i am a simple
i am a weak person
after every win
defeat follows
i go step by step
even if I through my own depravity
have become despondent
I am the doubter of myself
my soul holds me
in the dream
where I only have a supporting role
have to play
the mirror in front of
the soul tells me every day who i really am
Gods are made by humans
to which they cling
around in real life
inside and outside
to escape from one's own helplessness
I don't have to overtake anyone
I humbly want destiny
carry out which the soul has given up
