martes, 13 de enero de 2015

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.


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