Every moment we pass continues to perplex me; leaving me with a face so absurdly confused, it makes one for the cameras to capture, and glorify the misfit within. Think about the last leaf you saw fall, or maybe even the last dog which walked by you. Now imagine the day without that moment. You can't. Each moment is like a loose thread, being sewn and intertwined by the needles of observations. Until you observe the moment, the thread remains loose. Fäden, as a collection, explores the poet's observations, experiences and thoughts encountered on his hunt to kill each moment of time. Is it enough to simply savor the moment? Should we look to kill moments in order to revive the dead artist within? Through narrative poems the reader is urged to converse with the poetry, perhaps, in a parallel live it by them. Stories shouldn't be a massacre to a scramble of words, and poetry shouldn't just survive today. Sew your threads, weave out the narration and embrace the warmth of the comfort created.