onacarom
Member
Everything happens inside, slowly, without haste... do we realize it?
I refuse sadness
and I look for the door
to the other side
but pain is a key
that everything hidden
It opens
Sadness made of acts
that move in memories
putting in my retina
a myriad of pale colors
with the taste of salt
And despite my smile
that becomes independent
staying on my lips
with the pride of madness
everything happens inside
slowly
without haste
Sadness made of acts
that move in memories
putting in my retina
a myriad of pale colors
with the taste of salt
I refuse sadness
and I look for the door
to the other side
but pain is a key
that everything hidden
It opens
Sadness made of acts
that move in memories
putting in my retina
a myriad of pale colors
with the taste of salt
And despite my smile
that becomes independent
staying on my lips
with the pride of madness
everything happens inside
slowly
without haste
Sadness made of acts
that move in memories
putting in my retina
a myriad of pale colors
with the taste of salt