at the forgotten hands of the time
untangled knots on the forgotten hands of time
and what is life apart from a rythm?
rhtym
sonnets
black pearl words on white pages
no movement, no sentence
running, dancing, singing
mind is frozen
life is not an aforethought scenario
nothing is lost, nothing is gained...
at that faraway shore
time is no more
or real
and morrow is more...
here I stand
waiting and waiting
for you.