Seas
spreading
Babel’s
disease...
disease...
Can you
ear, my friend?
ear, my friend?
Words, for
them,
them,
Are
nothing, but a poets fluency…
nothing, but a poets fluency…
In the end,
For as much
as it shakes your hand,
as it shakes your hand,
You are
engraving stories in the sand…
engraving stories in the sand…
Can you
see, my friend?
see, my friend?
The
darkness they turn to light,
darkness they turn to light,
Asking
nothing of you,
nothing of you,
But being
polite…
polite…
Can you
hear, my friend?
hear, my friend?
Their pain
is greater than ours,
is greater than ours,
They count
days, minutes and hours,
days, minutes and hours,
In fear
that their beauty will someday be gone…
that their beauty will someday be gone…
Don’t you
see?
see?
In the
middle of the crowd,
middle of the crowd,
They are
all alone.
all alone.
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