Taciturn
Now I know...
I can talk about nostalgia
That building - old building - has loosen
His polish and rust slips down
The gates and doors
Just longing,
Like someone waiting and
Sticking in the middle of the road,
Light of the ancient gaze
Loses her glow.
Now I'm blinded ...
By the step of mist taking it all away.
That tree-covered alley, has got
The ivy already dead and children no longer play in it.
Languid arms try to embrace
A bit of stardust
They have failed and only grope for
The comet's tail
You
Moving to me
From my inside to the outside
From the outside to my private hell
No stop
No stop for the restless
For the helpless one
Never stops
I'm calling you
Calling you
With all my words
With my silence
With what's between the lines
Por el momento, a nadie le gusta este artículo
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