jueves, 24 de febrero de 2011


In an instant everything is possible;
 The love is the pity of those things in the movement
 And nothing is compared to falling in love
 Unless he dies, this is the only solution, between the lances.
 The stony way has initiated his fight in the forests of insertion:
 It cannot be, I ask While I cross the universe
 Without understanding the movements and the pain.
 I touch, in my delirious agony, your non-existent face.
 Do not dream that it finished;
 This is the same thing again and again.
 But, while some conquer or are conquered,
 I am kept far from everything.
 Because this one is my destination, my reflection. My impression...

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