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Literature Text
5 a.m., the morning...
Lost words are my salvation
the barrier keeping me away from the past
from worries
from hatred and meaningless desires.
Sinamon is my muse,
the very single heart of my soul.
Only her existence,
unsettling wind on these old wings,
untying my mortal binds ...
Lost words are my salvation
the barrier keeping me away from the past
from worries
from hatred and meaningless desires.
Sinamon is my muse,
the very single heart of my soul.
Only her existence,
unsettling wind on these old wings,
untying my mortal binds ...
Noites intermináveis, Saudade expressa noutras formas
Never ending nights, longing expressed in other shapes
Never ending nights, longing expressed in other shapes
© 2012 - 2024 Gerrard-Curvo
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