domingo, julio 22, 2012

Thunder seeks haven



(Picture by Florian Ritter) 

Sometimes,
the guitar sets fire to
the memories and the future.

You just have to burn in the present.

Sometimes
hit your crown of remorse
against the crust of innocent skin.

You just have to hear the rustling in the thunder.

Sometimes
pain plays as an alarm clock,
by an ancient custom.

You have only the distribution of dream.

Sometimes
yearning is an accelerator of regrets,
magic also naked.

You just have to feel the fury of the great pictures.

Sometimes
ghosts hurtful statements they make,
but remember the art of reality.

You just have the private garden of your desolation.

Sometimes,
you need not believe in anything
and the absurd increases night.

You just have your fly of old young man.
Sometimes, small details are saving your emotion,
and stroking the elegance of living inflamed

You just have to beat a center of serenity.
Some channels also of hope.

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