Black as the day, white as the night
A score and an eight, that's all it takes for the magic to begin.
I see myself swaying sweet dreams where I was born in the mists of the dark, sieging the
logic with fear and the hope of the following days to come, wishing about the lost future.
I see myself crying tears of needles, losing myself under the pressure of melody, feeling the
incoming defeat by an avalanche of my own thoughts, never waiting for the end.
From "Volumul Floare de piatră/Stone Flower"
Category: Philosophical poem
All author's poems: Andrei Lehanceanu
Date of posting: 21 октября
Views: 32
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