The ones missing create. Dreams, desires, love. Your eyes nailed at the barricades. They count the borders from them.
The ones missing create. Dreams, desires, love. Your eyes nailed at the barricades. They count the borders from them.
The never is lost. Every time now exists. After it’s filled with her images. Repetition initiation. Your fate grows. One happiness and one sadness choose the colors on you.
Numbers never acquire the value of a moment, of the word you heard or of an image that was etched in your memory. They are all around us ready to show us the way out, an end. Doomed to go out in the next act.
Pocket magic. One moment is enough. One thought. Lightens. You feel absent. It gave you beauty. It is not getting older. It remains alive. Kept. Valuable. Yours.
Giant egos. They are raising walls. They hide the light. False promises. Of a fake life.
It comes like a dream. Erases patterns. Fantasy baptizes the alive.

Time goes by sharing the roles of our lives. The script is not defined. At the breaking of the day we passionately try for our hope not to be orphaned, not to be lost in the well of time.
You are looking for them night and day. You are never happy to see. Your own suns.
Difficult times are trying us. Power supply is wasted for a breath of fresh air. Strengths go out. Losers dressed in unknown faith. A truth. Unquenchable. It continues to warm ageless souls.