The child is grown, the dream is gone...
There´s no more dream,
just the hollow sound of heart,
an echo behind the walls
in a sepulchral shape.
Time before,
proud voices stood up like arrows
-the most resonant phrases-
spoken from a vast, vast current.
And, what is left?
The same damned current
sinking and digging the sea
where there´s no pardon anymore.
by J.Q.
Es triste no? espero que el tiempo te muestre un camino feliz.
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