Clandestine of life
Plunging the waters of freedom
Seeing the path of passion
Writing a poem without meaning;
So this is what one is:
A loony wandering the world
Speaking about love
Talking with trees
Awakening the dark;
Lovers come and go
Falling in the deep hole of love
And yet, a last dance
Must be hold
To feel the movement
From the wind’s rhythm;
To see glitter eyes
In the presence of beauty
To taste the world
without time
Until the energy
Wants to settle down.