slips on slopes
seasons
corroded by the years, my body
,
won by toil.
crumble thoughts
tight clay with hands and mind
bordering on fear then.
Time flows like water of a river
banks to undefined
and how as a musical scene,
die in his applause, when
dying down the curtain.
So I try to smile a reality ghost
emptied of regret,
who knows where in what corner,
nostalgia,
stitches snippets of dreams. The fog obscuring
covered with signs
petals wither.
The hours are absent in the days, months
absentmindedly answer the call,
blocking the passage of light in my eyes
and nell'astenuante way,
fear its going
unable to stop it.
And time does not stop.
not hear the crying. Forward
undisturbed and does not respond to the call
of my complaint, while in the chase
stumble without realizing it,
where is the beginning of the end.
0 comments:
Post a Comment