Like a dark shadow, November walks over the dead autumn,
colorless time slips its slow song,
and the poetry of nature is muffled and deaf.
Suscribirse a:
Enviar comentarios (Atom)
#43. OLIVE TREE
In the labyrinth of my mind, darkness and light intermingle. The past is a shadow, the present a battle. But on the horizon shines a light...
-
My moon, a blinding crystal-eyed gaze, Its rays reflect the ominous scene, Time, a perfidious enigma, advances silent and crestfallen, And... -
Our mind is a ruined castle, with its lost towers. Madness whispers from the cracks, and truth spills from the walls. Our thoughts, echoes o...
No hay comentarios:
Publicar un comentario