FRIDAY, 10
The wind was whistling continuously,
it was getting darker, and that distant voice was
incessantly reaching my ears :
"an entire life... an entire life"...
On the opposite wall, the shadows of the
trees were playing cinema
FRIDAY, 10 b
It seems that somewhere people are celebrating;
although there are no houses or human beings
I can listen to guitars and other laughters which
are not nearby
Maybe far away, within the ashes of heavens
Andromeda, the Bear, or the Virgin...
I wonder; is loneliness the same, all over the
worlds ?
FRIDAY, 10c
Late midnight my room is moving in the
neighborhood shining like an emerald.
Someone searches it, but truth eludes him
constantly.
How to imagine that it is
placed lower
Much lower
That death too, has its own Red Sea.
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