Homemade Newton Scooter Balloon

The last night is filled

nostalgia

stolen in a frenzy of images and memories piled

without any magic.

Last night

rushing time, we

a moment to steal a kiss

and grab a piece of heaven.

Last night

the hot summer wind

with sadness envelops us.

On the lips, even salt,

the ocean, already pale memory.

Last night

under these stars that touch the mind

together make promises that

forget to keep.

Css Launch Option -high

Chasing the wind




I tried to translate words in silence.

spent a lifetime chasing the wind.
My only food that fills the air

this time off.
My only home, immaculately

page on which
give my complaint.
I locked up the existence of
dense lines of pain
pregnant,
imprisoned in the gloomy soul afflicted

essence of a faded ink.
busily painting a dream
to fill the void ...
I forgot to exist.