Resurgence

The nobility, a raw passion,
symphony in air suppressed,
can be established on earth,
curse of the tunes;
reflects the music died,
so low at every moment,
wakefulness while not closing eyelids,
sleep, a pain but requires
a twinge bending transfer
of imperfect sensations.

An hour is defined by the sound,
the second is like the site,
those people to lie,
each day away from the distance,
like counting years,
approaching each day for my return
beyond the dreams eternal.

Stupidity of cheering conforms,
stays invisibility,

waiting turns; almost
declined to color green,
for a moment of hope,
fueling an accumulation of orders,
expected in an astound despair,
one always, saying no return,
but is an unequivocal commandment.

The top loses it's aurora,
an underground river for resurrection
in another life, another character,
fighting to live, mourn for the lack
of its crystal clear water, open our eyes atonement,
forgotten the past life,
arms again nestled in
an close incessant warmness
for a successful rebirth.

An almost uncertain speculation,
will not back more with the same name, posture,
tuning words interspersed,
ready to procreate,
not even to the disobedient gesture.