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2008-06-06 | |
Do you really think a silent wing
could ever be replaced?
Are you that optimistic as to even take a glimpse at such an idea?
Step forward if you shall have enough reasons
as to surprise a weary place.
Is it or is it not beginning to fade inside you
the concept of a triumph?
I’m a glass garden with cracked wax doors
leading towards a mystified maze of huge proportions,
but as simple as the concept of air when
you give me something beautiful and see it come back
three times as gorgeous.
Take me with you, leave ashes behind
and see a petite flower shedding for your presence.
Take me with you where they all disappear and time stops
at your command.
Pick seven flowers, red white or blue,
perhaps the idea of being will cure in a split of second.
But you should know before even trying:
When a tree falls down and crushes light tulips
or they’re just erased by nothingness, it’s still the same…
promise I can make.
Not an adequate decision, nor a forfeiting revolution,
but a primary fact
inside a drained monthly newspaper.
This week’s edition:” I take a photograph;
it will be the last. Not a dollar or a crowd
could ever keep me here”
Friday, 06 June 2008
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