Anger is inseperable from fear.
I'm sailing towards a harbour
That is now receding.
I've already begun
To lift my hand.
Fear.
And this feeling which I cannot name.
The same as when my father died years ago.
There is —— before me, at some distance ——
this figure that tries to avoid light.
I'm so tired, you understand.
It is now time.
Tell them if they ask any questions.
