A second later
the story was shown as the shadow of its bygone beauty
nevertheless
the hidden is awakened in its forgotten form
in the porridge, from a scent
time stops, still.

Morning creates the first dimensions in between
a braveheart start the impulse
and vibrational waves moves, keeps moving
listen to that voice
as a silent solution occurs.

Let the cowardly attack
strand in the light of fire
for like the sun, a pathos filled heart
will rise again
and the land of lost tears
will fill their dried furrows
it was not our war that took place
but still we grabbed our swords
for a peaceful dawn.

Rest whispers a few stanzas
the song was written in the moment
on the slope of a ruin
someone falls
the chair that was patterned
no longer fits
fall my angel
let yourself feel the space as your own protection
in the wind that peels away a cover
left is no longer the body.

The ego of history
leaving their ruins
that was said
to describe
the shimmer of the past
wearing the shape of my own day dragonfly.

From pain
the desire to be whole is born
and the value of that balance
which in its system exist.

Or maybe it was the heart’s desire
who whispered a song
that you started humming
in the lust
to allow a soul to expand.