Steal his mind while she sings,
she is my blackbird,
a call from the deepest corner of this existence.
I listen to the resonance,
a drop falls into the sea,
stardust in my eyes.
Eternity built through steel and glass,
the fragile sense of our lives,
the sun that hits.
Prison’s guard holding me down,
I don’t want to be controlled by the ticking of the clock,
blue skies are my saviors.
The flight of fantasy, I fly into imagination,
till the gate closes,
and still she sings.
In the absolute meaning of what it has been between us,
your voice is quite blurred, far away.
The snow that you were.
Pubblicato il 19/06/2014, in Free Flow, Poetry con tag fantasy, flight, him, hope, imagination, leaving, Love, music, Poetry, she, singing, Solitude. Aggiungi il permalink ai segnalibri. Lascia un commento.