Time passes and leaves traces of stifled thoughts in the mind
Dancing of luminous moths as if they were air and dust. 
Where there is no rule to tell lies about people in balance. 
Nothing that can hurt to take refuge to protect ourselves from us. 
Because life goes like a crazy pinwheel. 
In going back and starting again in extreme need. 
Incoherence and nostalgia for acts left unfinished and empty. 
You were left to search in the mud for the habits of conscience. 

1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. utahan15
    Nov 10, 2021 @ 18:34:35

    time is a river
    not a fibber


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