Little birds and fairytales
Fading sounds and deeper words.
Screaming to the mermaids
That all our fights are somehow wars,
And from this fantastic scene
We are giving birth to our memories.
Cherry wine and rosemary,
Chocolate bites and peaches.
They are as sweet as souvenirs.
I'll remember the birth of those ones,
In a land of fantasy
Where you and I is a We.
YOU ARE READING
voltairement
PoesiaGod is dead, - said Nietzsche. In a land of desolation and ghosts You were an angel. Like every other creature, you've been wasted. Wicked little thing.
