With what words I could heal
The moment's broken wing,
When the beak of destiny's bird
Is stuck in the door of my poem?

Like a ship without sails,
Floating on a sea of words,
Thirsty, I'm looking for a harbor
To cast my heart's anchor.

The eye-compass shows me
The direction to the depths.
Oh, ill moments, take my wings-
In my inner sea, the time died!

Sign In to know Author