The trains of life are rushing,
There is no stop in any station,
The beauty of our purity
is no longer exist,
We were victorious
in the years of our youth,
but soon we'll arrive
at the years of old age.
The time exceeds
the borders of space,
We go through illusions,
through disappointments,
The wonderful stories,
old loves, they're gone,
But some of our failures
remained in us.
In our souls are storms
with cold rains
and blue moments,
Happiness is far by us,
We wake up suddenly,
soldiers in a war,
But we realize
that without love
We are naked.
Our dreams flying
as the swarms of bees,
We're tortured
by the thorns of envy,
We escalated many times
few mountains created
by tears and sighs,
We have some
new fine wrinkles
on our foreheads.
We live in a good
or bad way,
We're going among
the serpentines
or on steep roads,
but the wings of hope
sometimes they're broken.
We have ugly nights
or days without sunshine,
The wind blows
through our pockets,
A cry of despair it's heard
from time to time
Like a sound of hammer
in an endless silence.
Will go far away the last train
taking our perennial present,
We sing the same refrain for years,
The bricks from which
we have built
so many big houses
on the Street of Love,
have collapsed
because of unhappiness.
In our foolish minds, we have
troubled thoughts, misconceptions,
We have infinite pains in our hearts,
because they often are too hurt.
We have lost our thirst for freedom,
Gratitude it's shows only on half,
The hate grows
in us as much as possible,
We use the badness, as a weapon.
When we have no words,
we use the cowardice,
We hit in the back some people
even if they gave us
one helping hand,
We use heavy words
in the way we use the ax,
instead of living a life
easily as possible.
But I... I learned to fly,
I'm always close to the sky,
I'm on the earth
just when I wanna walk
with bare feet on cruel grass.
I don't wanna loose
my time with small things,
Of long time ago, I kept
a grain, who gets
deep roots in my heart,
In me grows Flower of love,
Which will not dry out never.
All rights reserved
© Crisastemis
From the volume - The colors of love
There is no stop in any station,
The beauty of our purity
is no longer exist,
We were victorious
in the years of our youth,
but soon we'll arrive
at the years of old age.
The time exceeds
the borders of space,
We go through illusions,
through disappointments,
The wonderful stories,
old loves, they're gone,
But some of our failures
remained in us.
In our souls are storms
with cold rains
and blue moments,
Happiness is far by us,
We wake up suddenly,
soldiers in a war,
But we realize
that without love
We are naked.
Our dreams flying
as the swarms of bees,
We're tortured
by the thorns of envy,
We escalated many times
few mountains created
by tears and sighs,
We have some
new fine wrinkles
on our foreheads.
We live in a good
or bad way,
We're going among
the serpentines
or on steep roads,
but the wings of hope
sometimes they're broken.
We have ugly nights
or days without sunshine,
The wind blows
through our pockets,
A cry of despair it's heard
from time to time
Like a sound of hammer
in an endless silence.
Will go far away the last train
taking our perennial present,
We sing the same refrain for years,
The bricks from which
we have built
so many big houses
on the Street of Love,
have collapsed
because of unhappiness.
In our foolish minds, we have
troubled thoughts, misconceptions,
We have infinite pains in our hearts,
because they often are too hurt.
We have lost our thirst for freedom,
Gratitude it's shows only on half,
The hate grows
in us as much as possible,
We use the badness, as a weapon.
When we have no words,
we use the cowardice,
We hit in the back some people
even if they gave us
one helping hand,
We use heavy words
in the way we use the ax,
instead of living a life
easily as possible.
But I... I learned to fly,
I'm always close to the sky,
I'm on the earth
just when I wanna walk
with bare feet on cruel grass.
I don't wanna loose
my time with small things,
Of long time ago, I kept
a grain, who gets
deep roots in my heart,
In me grows Flower of love,
Which will not dry out never.
All rights reserved
© Crisastemis
From the volume - The colors of love
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