Her soul was made of stardust,
as she shone in the darkess night, singing me that she must,
continue her fight.
I asked her once what was that about, that fight she kept talking,
she then answered me that she thought,
there were always fights for winning.
I asked: Winning what, why, who?
Her answer was:I'm stardust, and dust can't stay,
i'm fighting the dark to reborn each night in different burning stars,
by lighting them everyday.
I'm fighting the day to let the night show my victory scars.
VOUS LISEZ
•My own wrecked mind•
Poesia~Des fois ça va, d'autres non.~ Pensées quotidiennes, remises en doute. Poèmes, textes. Ce qui dompte mes pensées sauvages, les retiens en cage. Peu importe la langue, anglais, français, misère, douleur, apaisement ou bonheur.
