Dilute wind and shadow in a sphere;
to drink from the traces of this yesterday,
shades and aurora on my skin
and a feeling to even breathe
before a grey sky.
Happenings from the cold winds,
in between lights playing hide and seek,
reducing waves in an ocean of emotions,
never stir in my heart ending damn faith,
in refusing to forget soul's thirst screams.
If life does not commit follies
for bothering to live, to fly, to take wings in soul,
I need your hand, if you don't have it,
I don't want wings,
don't want to be a doll, don't want anything,
but just silence
to imagine sometimes a voyage through
visions of unknown.
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