Friday, 16 March 2007

Wise

He awoke in the answer
the tree was half way burned
the mirror felt on a bleeding soul
balance flew through the small space less warmth
she nestled against his freedom
an expecting mouth, abandonment to life
the earth smiled to the green sun
the blue moon started laughing
a release, the bullet hit him in his temple.

The dream is burning on the darkness of oil
exhausting fumes in the coughing atmosphere
in ecstasy the breathing caresses the open heart
the scent of lavender to camouflage the smell of garbage
the children are so angry in the neglected woods.

Innocent he opens up the ancient door
the breeze got through the hidden pain.


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