domingo, 28 de abril de 2013

Storm

A hand full of flowers,
A mind full of ashes,
I wish I could know
How do they grow;
In the ache of my skin,
Inside my tormented head.

A sorrowful hour,
An endless breath,
I want you to stay
And kill me today;
With the love I must not receive,
Running away.

A tree is cut off,
A thought is inconclusive,
The days become darker,
Loneliness becomes brighter,
The summer will disappear,
My mind is long gone.

The time could be near,
But do you want to hear
The sound of my mind
Exploding in desperation?

I thought I had seen
Something different,
Someone indecent,
But I had only seen myself,
It was only my own
Trembling ideal of home.

The breathing is unknown,
And the days begin to disappear,
The night begins to take over,
My melancholic state is always closer,
Always closer
Than anyone else,
The breathing is over...

Ricardo Rodrigues

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