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Five Stones In My Pocket And I cling to them in hand

I have five stones in his pocket
and keep them close at hand.

Back and forth I think of the unnecessary words
lost like stones into a lake

now ... missing ...

words come back after years
a cycle now lived

... absolute ...

Five years have passed.

I leaned his head bowed, on this pointless remake
I still remember my profile see the horizon from the boat

I'm tired, but I still ... because the dream is long gone and I have to rest
to dream again in this world.

Long months alone in this land border between the rocks, the sea and the pinewood.
Intent to mix the five stones in his pocket ... many years in the mind.
Now I return, I am now ready to draw, read and rewrite
these four months slipped slowly.

not I know if I understood, accepted and decided
... but I know now I can go without

... run away ...

Freedom, welcome back you know you've been waiting

Four months of memories, a life that I lived and thought in vain departure
bartered a present that does not exist, superficial and inconclusive.

A flower remains so, even when it is wilted
no matter how thou hast grown.
But you can accompany with other flowers and other smiles ...

The absolute madness, lies, utopia

Go Clear Without
Meet Softly Softly Let


Dancing On Life

This is a miracle