03 dezembro 2010

a pen living

hearts, souls
swinging in the air
searching, endlessly
for a pair
or a repair

to mend their broken wings
gained in the battle of love
most wounding and mortal
most desirable
and disarming battle

like a wide sea portrait
the hearts show nothing
but desperate affection
which tries to reach the shore
for security and safety

deceiving feelings
that lock out all truths
and all lies
encouraging a nonsense
riding in the rain

locking up beauty
in an irreplaceable time
where dreams lie steady
where the heart remains unwritten
as a moon whisper.