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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