the silent figure

The lonely silence of that silent figure
Strikes me, as I follow the steps
Of a giant, lost in a world of white
Painted black by some unknown magician
Black magic of silence and sorrow
Slowly, surely, silently
Steps after steps, world after world
I still keep on following
Hoping to find, to meet, the giant
Trying not to listen, trying to ignore
The rustling of the white wings
From that branch, a lone cherry-tree
Trying to take me away, away from the steps
From the giant forest of dust and chains
Should I chose to listen, not follow
Should I try to go meet the figure, not the giant?
Silence or dust, only that figure remains
Firmly standing in the white light of the sun
Holding his hands towards the heavens, skyward
Like a sword, trying to reach the heart
To find a way outside this world
Painted white by the folly of infinity
Slowly erasing the silent steps of that giant
Slowly fading, surely, from the feathers
Of that lonely voice, that silent figure
Slowly taking me away, to its own world
Painted white, and black, and blue, and light
Oh, such light...