Ira


Rarely the time was so restless
Everything was set in movement
To save what was left to save
The dust leftovers, harmonius
Untouched

The temple appeared as an ruin
Anger Disbelief and pain
Alienated among the strangers
It is like it is

Panic among the sleepless
Permit yourself a present
I take back what belong to me
Rest with a pure concience

We are the materie
We are the believe
We are the power
We are
Nothing

1 comment:

luisa brehm said...

lindo, poderoso, beautiful, powerful ....
tu poema !!!