by the rough shores
She walks on narrow streets
Roaming with people
Everything seems so empty
In this floating city…
Empty eyes, burned cheekbones
Wild looks and languages
That are strangled by expired words
Which are out of hope.
By the rough shores
The waves still speak though
They speak of unfamiliar poems
Dialects that were put to die and
Dreams that were not even born.
Rough and surreal
Untold stories are dancing in the abys
Waiting to be heard…
But one day, carried by the wind
They will rise and they will
Create a new sky
Filled with sunshine and blue…
A glowy sea
At the shores of a lighthouse
Called love.
alex
I am a spiritual nomad looking for trouble! I love travelling, writing is my favourite form of expression and I will never say no to coffee! I dedicate my free time in practicing yoga and meditation as well as learning more about transformative education and development. I also love dancing and I could talk forever about love. :)
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