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  • Vaxsysl

    The wind is whistling past
    softly caressing, waking up
    Whispering

    Leaves dance over dirt and stone
    They rustle and bustle, sliding
    Dancing

    I shudder with the memory and let my breath go
    The wind cups it, carries it up, higher evermore
    Teasing

    Up there it is easy to be heard
    the sound of silence, grief and hurt
    Pleading

    It whistles past and carries on the note
    The forest knows all things, this new story not unknown
    Seeing

    Bark and rose are clothed in thorns
    Field of flowers welcome the host.
    Believing

    Leaves rustle less, the wind has passed, going on west.
    More leaves hustle and bustle, they make a small nest
    A memory escaped, jagged and full of jest.
    It gets buried down, forgotten but without rest.

    The wind whistles on,
    Seeking new memories to hold.
    I have nothing to gift,
    For here now I stand alone.

    The wind whispers,
    The leaves dance.
    The air is teasing,
    The sounds pleading.
    And although I am seeing,
    I am not believing.

    Fading.

    (huh, kako dugo nisam pisao "na" nekoga... bok inače...)

    avatar

    11.01.2018. (02:46)    -   -   -   -  

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