~WHAT GOES BACK IN OUR MIDS AGAIN~
From pain to tear,
From the tear to the soul,
From soul to music,
From music back to the soul,
From soul to mind,
From mind to there and to here,
From here time travel instant magic!
Saturday night and the pain is knocking on my door again…
Early morning and I have reasons not to sleep
Since I don’t dare to dream because I’m afraid
because there was always a nightmare ruining my plan
and by force again my mood to fly!
Early morning and I have reasons not to sleep
since I don’t dare to dream because I’m afraid
the beautiful river called mind,
maybe he will give me the solution and I will be able to get out of here!
My body for a while to leave and return from where I will someday return
but deep down I don’t know if I want this that much even if it’s momentary/temporary
on the one hand, it is an opportunity to see again and embrace faces that I no longer have in this field
on the other hand if I automatically leave my purpose I give up a bright idea
since I still haven’t managed to defeat the Nemean Lion!
I Leave it for now and return to the present with great potential but I remain…
I close my eyes, I turn on my side, I turn my thoughts into clay, maybe I can sleep sadness and anger
I turn the other way but my proud thought pops up again, what does he want, what does he bring, what riddle will he solve again? ? ?
In the night it reminds me of Sparta and again in the middle of a long route where the smile in the eyes of a figure of the Fatherland was endless…
Where you can’t say it and next to you when you only have it, it’s worth living it!
So much boasting, so much, but how much can you endure, how much? ? ?
And what is left of all this in the end? ? ?
Time moves on and the night passed as if it wants its time to pass pointlessly!
That’s what I said and I fell asleep without thinking that I was defeated!
Ti dawned and the morning came and the sun one more day there looking at you and constantly asking:
Rock, Scissors, Pencil and paper is our Life…
STONE:
It is a stone like our wounded heart that is impatiently waiting for something to soften it!
SCISSOR:
It’s scissors like joy cut in half but we still dream and let them not like it!
PENCIL:
It’s pencil in what our mind finds a way out on paper so doesn’t go crazy!
“This is our Life, look at our eyes and not our backs…
It is not a piece yet, but a piece of us!
It’s our reason…
The Dark is the patient and the Light is our psychologist”
Comments