The wide fresh wheeze blowing up through the sky.
All these promises ust be full of lies.
Expanded shiny ray of light thought the clound floods the birds.
Green, gold and red is the mountain, but silver, blue and white is his mind.
After the rain comes the sun, it always does, but he learnt he is the exeption of the rule.
Deep down, he lies in an eternal bed. Diving profoundly, we can see shivering light, but under a black thik stale.
He is tired.
He wants to be free.
And so on he walks.
The grass is smoothy, the air heavy.
Into living nature, he finally jumps of the mountain, free to rise again.
For the first time in his life, he doesn't have to fight to feel alive.
As his hope comes alive, a feverish embrace that he can't hide, like spark throught a flame, feel it as his fear begins to fade...
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Avalanches (de mots)
PoetryLes avalanches de mots sont des exercices d'écriture où l'on écris sans arrêt pendant 90 secondes, sans possibilité de retourner en arrière, sans s'arrêter, juste ce qui nous traverse l'esprit. Sans limite de temps, nous avons trop de temps pour dou...
