The burning wind
In the burnt wind, the murals curl with radiance, painted by burning weeds. The houses have opened balconies in the old town
In the burnt wind, the murals curl with radiance, painted by burning weeds. The houses have opened balconies in the old town
Dear companion of my days… To think it was true that your eyes saved a hidden illusion when our sight crossed
So now I know… I was young enough to believe nothing will break us, stepping hand-in-hand into the other side.
I never thought such words would inhabit my mind, my thoughts. I never thought I would see such times. Always
This is a unique world, a wonder world. there is so much life, so much change, evolution, revolution, it’s constantly
And that’s right… it’s your eyes then that tells me something I’m still trying to figure out, a secret something
Showing feelings is not a sign of weakness. People who have the courage to share their feelings are likely to
Many things have said and done because of faith during the years. But, does anyone really know whta it is?
I was afraid I would see nothing at all. That I would get there, and not be astonished by what
I ask my self.. does it matter if the fields go dry? does it matter if the rivers run dry?
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