domingo, 20 de novembro de 2016

I have surrendered

I am no poet;
I am no more than vessel
of words I cannot say,
words I don't know.

I just write.
I cannot really speak.

The true, beautiful poet
is the Loneliness
for the storm of truths
and lies
it whispers to me
in trembling hands
and sharp eyes
of metaphored glances.

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