sins in a suitcase
the revenge and betrayal
building false houses

There's no one on the streets...
Just him and the Moon,
a few stars, now paying in advance
to Heaven for leaving him alone,
tonight... no one cared about him.
But, although the morning air is chilly,
he feels light, not like in the pain's fortress,
on his own, listening to his own silence,
waiting for her to come back...
for sleeping together the immortality.
For the soul speaks to him
of unblemished paths
when his eyelids go down
into undisciplined dreams.
Then, through the sound of a guitar,
the Moon whispers about a hungry love
that announces his longing.
The heart sings its sorrow in trembling poems,
he listens to the rhythm of the crazy whispers.
Swinging through some lyrics and music in his ears,
thinking of her, as he lost his soul mate.
He's watching the night loving the shiny stars,
missing her lips, how she gave him ephemeral kisses.
He wants to know that he still has wings
and the right to fly again,
don't let him leave from the wonderful life's scene!

What kind of fool am I
to believe that I own the sun
in tenderhearted, enchanted mornings,
singing a ballad of a worried prisoner
who has secret storms in his blood,
and his sweet melody is calming down
my storms and my distress...

What kind of fool am I
to believe that I once lived in a castle,
and til the morning of the midnight
I was reading tales of the darkest knight,
but then... a strange voice through a cloud
called me “the unearthly child”, out loud...

What kind of fool am I
to believe that the grass is my pillow.
I'm like a downhill dreamer,
walking barefoot in the park,
hand in hand,
waiting to be called into
the Promised Land,
saying the holy vows of Heaven...

What kind of fool am I
if I dreamt the sky burning
as I walked on midnight's alley,
feeling dispossessed of the
sweet things that seem so far...

What kind of fool am I
if I play the game of survival
in the longest season of rain and lightning,
if I take a second glance at life
and catch that amazing moment
when two wrongs can make a right
and don't want to give up, not without a fight.

Well, I must say:
I'll get through all the barriers one day,
even if I end up being the last star from the left,
cause love... will always make me sail like fool,
as long as I'll breath
the miracle of life in my chest.

I said Yes to laughter and joy,
to Life that I really want to enjoy,
to the charming power of trees in bloom,
to my soul-mate, soon to be my groom.

I said Yes to the creature in the mirror,
to the naked night that seems nearer,
to the unseen colours of Tomorrow,
to the star that's born from its sorrow.

I said Yes to the quietest thunder,
to your unforgettable love and wonder,
to your heart which is like an open book,
to the chance that I don't regret I took.

I said Yes, even if my head was spinning,
because everything in life's about winning,
you're a winner if you throw the golden dice,
I took my chance, I didn't think twice!

An empty bed is a valley of tears
on a dark, lonely street
and it’s taking many years
for the dancing stars to meet…

An empty bed is like a foggy day
when the inner smile is missing
people say that we should obey
in front of love, when kissing…

An empty bed is thief in the night
who hates the moonlight serenade
and takes from our dreams a bite
for all emotions that aren’t paid…

An empty bed is echo of the whisper
and we should blame it on the moon
because doesn’t give us shiver
in front of love, we remain immune…

I'm cold.
Even if it's summer and the Sun is out,
even if the orchard's trees are full of life.
Their sprinkled shadows are impressive, majestic
over the mowed grass on the affectionate field.
They are waiting patiently for their fruits to ripe,
showing their brave branches like in a play,
as in a prayer to the almighty golden sun,
some more pious and too modest.
Me... just a small second-hand admirer
of the round, glassy porcelain crops,
I was listening to the cheery birds humming.

I'm cold.
Even if the trees are wise and quiet,
in perfectly equal rows they are aligned.
I was watching the green grass as a soft blanket,
shy and barefoot, then I stepped.
Even if above all, that golden globe
shines imposing and then turns into light orange,
he thrones over the thick grass of the hill,
with dew's drops that sparkles in the shadow.

I'm cold.
Even though the lake of a calm, sober blue
provokes me jealousy for its balance,
cause the divine melody of the quiet morning
calls me to participate to that chromotherapy,
asking to give up on the idea of ​​nostalgic lethargy,
not to be defeated... but to write more poetry.

Autumn comes again, with her bare arms,
the depths are hiding deaf fountains of smiles,
the cold rains and fog wandering in the farms,
the warm sunrise was expelled, so he cries.

The secrets of waterfalls that carries their name
are reading my bitter soul as an empty shell,
my tears are flowing to extinguish the flame
of the clouds from heaven... so they tell.

I wonder if my heart will slow down in time
until the dawn of old age that puts a spell
on the sunrises and sunsets, in the meantime
I can take over the duties of the fall as well.

Until then, I remain an insomniac in motion.
Until flowers grow into the heart. I will not surrender.
I'll try over and over again, until tears make an ocean.
Tell me... when I'm going to meet my life's defender?

Once upon a time,
I kissed Death for a second,
Before Life happened.

Between you and me ... a worrying world
about the crowd of men that guards our words
and taste the love from the sweet cup of the happiness,
daring to break the spell of bitter sadness.

Between me and you ... there is only one way,
you would want all of my heart in your chest,
you would breathe my words, my eternal dilemmas,
the distance being your greatest regret.

Between you and me ... silence ... and a mute kiss
that incites and listen how the hormones scream,
the feelings that don't fit into the soul, I chase them away
creating addiction to my lips and war to my neurons.

Between me and you ... the same Sun, the same Moon,
the same stars that shine on my face,
being their godmother, for in the night they are crowned,
and the witnesses are the warm beads of sand.

Between you and me ... a deadly loneliness
and a chest full of unfulfilled dreams,
the autumn dew, and fear of death,
just dots, dots, dots and two merged hearts.

Are they snowballs down in hell
or just fire, smoke and heat?
I must live forever in my shell,
solving the matters of your deceit.

You put my feelings in the shredder,
wearing that silly mask of Cupid,
I'm guilty. I should have known better.
You're Evil in disguise, and I'm so... stupid.

You were feeding me with charming lies
about how your Sun is kissing the snow,
you made me walk away two thousand miles,
now I don't live at home anymore.

We should stop playing this blame-game,
and don't hide behind the shadows of a traitor,
the loneliness is whispering now my name,
believe me, you will thank me for this... later,

when your raven years will bring you wisdom,
you'll sit and have your morning breakfast,
you'll make confessions to God's kingdom,
only then you'll triumph over Life's tempest.

I'll silence myself while I'll be standing still
the world is going crazy, touching the hand of fear.
I'll build a mountain of love, kindness and will,
so please hold me tighter in the rain, my dear.

If not, I will end in sad and dark despair
it will be no laughter anymore in my heart,
I'll run endlessly on the hills, to you I swear,
like two strangers, believe me, we will fall apart.

I'll be dancing with tears in my eyes
even if silence will reign over everything,
I know in fairytales tomorrow never dies
we promissed to each other to be queen and king.

I'll blame it on the sun, I'll blame it on the sky
I'll colour the loneliness with the echo of my whisper,
I'm gonna live and love, humbled, until I die
with the vows of heaven, love gets even sweeter.

It's never too late to get a second chance
and speak rhapsody of words under the holy moon
pain is an open window, with a deadly glance
fly me up to heaven, so I can see you soon.

27.01.2018 London

If I’ll blink I’ll miss
the best version of myself
piece by piece by piece

Under the night's breath, I watched the butterflies on the wall,
remembering in silence my long-gone years of youth
when my wings were fully-coloured as the rainbow in fall,
and the world still believed in honest love and the truth.

Thousands of butterflies, they knew how to keep a secret
counting moments, not years, giving us so much emotion,
continuing their dream on St. Valentine's wings, they don't quit
extinguishing my thirsty soul with the waves of the ocean.

Where are you, where is the pure love from yesteryear?
Flying from flower to flower, where did you leave your legacy?
Do you want to settle in my raven hair like a hairpin
or you want me to be the only scenographer of your jealousy?

You're not a butterfly unless you get rid of the moths of the past,
if you do not solve the life's equation with many unknowns.
If you still believe in mute gestures that are growing fast,
let's decorate the night together with the love in our bones.

Beyond the heat of the soul,
the sky was full of clouds
clouds running one after another,
eternally traveling
like the sons of the sublime, wasteful
looking for the hidden star in the thrilling trap.
They were looking for their way
through the questions, begging
with a wise sadness, remaining indebted to me
with some suave whispers until the dawn
leaving behind only echoes to the devouring soul.
It was a late autumn evening
with colourful nature music
with a pale light on the streets
suffocated by traitorous people
leaving a mist of words between me and life,
escaping sometimes...
escaping from the clouds of clandestine thoughts,
waiting for you to come down.
And you came!

Sorrow beyond dreams
If I can’t clone gentle heart
Things will fall apart

I am an Ego
whose heart is revolting,
who with the poetry is flirting,
who knew in this life the pain,
but never lost the power of her brain.

I am an Ego
like anyone else who has complexes,
who dreams at perfect morning's reflexes,
who breaths deeply and tries to sing dearly,
but knows both sides of her life's story, clearly.

I am an Ego
who likes the good evenings in two,
who no longer wants rain, that's true,
who left on life's trip with a single backpack,
but has not allowed her soul to become insomniac.

I am an Ego
waiting on the platform for destiny's train,
who no longer wants illusions in vain,
who does not live listening to the rumours,
but wants, by poetry, to get rid of life's tumours.

I am an Ego
who thinks that still has a chance to complete,
who, after falling, is getting back on her feet,
who is the observer of the world's fuss and art,
but still hopes for the calm of her restless heart.

Don't want any songs of a gun,
don't want to hurt anyone,
don't want any endless run
no more. I've had enough. I'm done.

No more indomitable tease,
no more spirits in chains like these,
no more falling on our knees,
don't want any war, no more, please.

Don't want any debt to the danger,
don't want a family picture with me as a stranger,
don't want to be haunted down by a ranger
no more. This is major.

No more unreasonable favours,
no more not knowing the food's flavours,
no more fighting with the neighbours,
don't want any more bodies arranged in layers.

Don't want any legion just for feeding my pride,
don't want any more crossroads inside,
don't want my happiness to be denied
no more. Too many people had died.

I had nothing... but my eyes painted with tears,
broken wings of so many passions and dreams,
petrified in overwhelming, ruthless silence,
torn by the screaming thoughts from the islands.
I had nothing... than infinite fear
to change my life, like I'm changing the gear,
stumbling in my own dreams with unbounded laces,
running on the road of sadness I left a few traces.

I have nothing... than my fiery heart that's blazing,
I have the relentless frowning in my judgment while racing.
It fills the gap between my soul and thoughts, one or two,
but I can not help it ... I lay my love in front of you...
because yes... I choose to love you like no other,
I dress my heart with the colours of your endless summer.
I may be a dreamer, but you brought me to the ground
from the living stars that I might have found.
Blow my heart now, so that it never hurts wearing the crown,
until the sweet death gets my eyelids to come down...

I'll have nothing... if I don't have you from the start,
I will have nothing... but a deserted heart
pulsing abnormally, pounding so fiercely, I will suffer,
but I know that you and I are destined for each other,
we just have to trust love, time and have much patience,
we have to want more of the burning dreams and sensations,
to dare to breathe through emotions the love of this century,
for our children to carry on our name and our memory...

I look in the mirror and I'm talking to myself
about how I can not let anyone touch my heart.
For you have gone and have not looked back yourself,
you threw my gentle heart into the bin. Tore it apart.

I wanted to shout: Love, do not leave me here alone!
Don't hurt me and leave traces of blood in my heart!
It doesn't matter that I once loved you, now you're a stone.
I resign. Maybe I wasn't a good candidate. I wasn't smart.

I was waiting for you for a lifetime, but was all in vain, for both,
in time you showed me your true face, by the way you kiss.
For I don't give away my spirit to whom makes an oath,
but to the one who'll give me a hand down in the abyss.

I looked in the mirror and all I saw was an error in two,
unanswered questions in different colours of a war.
If it's a monologue or dialogue, I'm not staying in the queue,
anyways, I don't believe in the beautiful Aphrodite anymore.

Hello! ... It's me! How are you? How are you doing?
Do you think about me at night, when you sleep?
Are you listening to our favorite music while pursuing
To remember our sweet moments you want to keep?

I remember your dovelike face when you slept,
How I watched over you... you didn't even know...
How much I wanted to feel your protective wings, except
That they made my heart feel like floating feather in the snow.

I wonder if I disappeared from the nest of sorrow...
Would you find me in your soul, somewhere in a tiny corner?
Would you call me, or look for me in the coffee steam tomorrow?
At dawn or late at night, would you call me like a foreigner?

I wrote and rewrote a dozen letters to you in my mind
Surfing through my thoughts, causing me creeps...
Hoping for a peaceful and calm existence, as a blind
I looked in the mirror and it slapped my cheeks.

Then I woke up from dreaming with wide open eyes,
I was hoping in vain that fate would declare us admitted,
I knew I had a privileged place in the world's misery, full of lies,
Now I know... Life has something else destined for us. So, I submitted.

They say the world is coming to an ending
and all of us will pay the ultimate price
for this land of chains that we’re often pretending
to be God’s garden.
We’re just throwing the dice.

They say the world is coming to an end
for we’re all like gambling thieves
playing around with demons. We all got
banned from beauty.
And the poor Earth just grieves.

They say the world is coming to an ending
for we’re planting guilty ignorance seeds.
Earthquakes, fires and floods are extending.
Earth is not a place to ******.
Poor baby, it bleeds.

Let’s stop making Earth a place in disgrace
by giving ourselves questionable pleasures and alibis
it’s time for new beginnings and a good human race.
For there’s not a dry eye in the world.
So… we need this compromise.

An angel fell with his wings broken, amidst the heroes,
from his mouth, words sounded like true diamonds.
Wherever I look, through open doors or windows,
I'm looking for you, but you... are no longer among us.

You flew with us for a while, but you've reached another world,
the angels can now ease our pain and keep you safe.
They told you to leave this earth, with your destiny curled,
people full of tears now are digging your grave.

Now we have bitter rain in our hearts, and so much grief,
candles will light up our evenings in our sight.
With eyes in tears, we ask for the divine relief,
it's the day when the stars fall, there is no longer light.

We will wake up from the shadows of the night
to see your innocent image printed in the sky and calm.
It's not fair. But maybe angels think that this is right,
your face, your smile will always be our balm.

Your very own being was a wonderful music and poetry,
the angels say that your soul by them has been kissed.
I can't read words about you and not being hurt, I agree,
may God rest you in peace! You will be sorely missed!

My famous first words:
Mommy, daddy, family.
For eternity!

If I were a bird
I’d take a quick bite of life
Simply by flying

Serenade tonight
The game of a frozen bride
Poisoning my heart

Arrogant sunset
Reveals Yesterday’s secret
Promising the Moon

Next to your footsteps
I feel like an outsider
An unwanted guest

The grand opening
We are the everyday clowns
In times of Ego

Your shadowy eyes
Weeping waves of living lies
Silent abduction

Ask the sun why it's so yellow,
and drops gold through my bare arms,
among bunches of white clouds as a
powder of the blue sky above the farms.

Ask why the water had just been pumped
on the fields, thirsty for green, and then
it turns into an embroidered silk skirt
balancing the years of clover's petals again.

Ask my arms why they have opened
to embrace the wind blowing through my hair
and gives to the forests green, silent lungs,
to beat the time that shows us a truth that's rare.

I know, one day our skin will have wrinkles
like the bleached petals, spoiled and faded,
and our youth will disappear between the walls
towards the nightfall with a lot of love invaded.

I know, even our brain will erode one day
like caves sculpted by the water that's thin
and will wipe out the crucial parts of us
to make room for things that are about to begin.

But... although our bodies will decompose,
they will rot right next to each other,
surviving the apocalypse that will convince us:
that our life was not a lie... but a wonder.

My happiness ... it comes from the smallest things,
as it flows into the clepsydra the grains of sand.
My happiness ... is the thought of using my wings,
my warm soul that surrounds you with its hand.

My happiness ... is the rainbow after a big storm,
is the fragrant, beautiful scented flower, like a lip balm.
My happiness ... are your eyes as a color spell in uniform
and you embrace me all in your comforting palm.

My happiness ... is the song humming your name
under the burst of tender kisses of a guitar on fire.
My happiness ... is your vibrant glance in a frame,
your touch on a bear fur, like a hot desire.

My happiness ... is my smile in which you mirror in the night,
your face is dear heaven in my humble garden.
My happiness ... is faith in love and in what is right,
it's the flame burning, without asking for a pardon.

My happiness ... is the sleep you will watch for me
with fine caresses on my long raven hair.
My happiness ... is the starry sky where I feel free,
our bathing in the great spiritual love, like a prayer.

My happiness ... is coffee in two until we're much older,
when the sunrays brings us to life without any risk.
My happiness ... is the sea breeze on our naked shoulder,
spring suite appears, warmed by the heavenly yellow disk.

My happiness ... is to be happy even if I'm sad and on my knee,
for you have the power to raise me up and wipe my tears away.
My happiness ... is to swim against the waves of the sea,
for you are expected, loneliness has announced its delay.

Have you ever felt the rain on your cheeks
smelling like a burgundy rose in the sunlight?
Or the fear that drives away the fire for weeks
from your soul, brought by the zephyr of the night?

Have you ever read the unwritten letters
with the wandering feather of the folly,
about the predicted destinies in sweaters
and the voiceless hearts who forget to remain jolly?

Have you ever seen the floating married couples
searching for their star in the clouds, up in the sky,
how they are looking for dizzying touches and chuckles
while writing their love on white sheets, in the hot July?

Have you ever heard the sharpened words,
the ones with hidden or multiple meanings,
how the blind hopes are torn apart by swords
bringing up bitter enigmas and bad feelings?

I did. I felt all of this. I've seen all of this.
How I was smashed in million pieces by the pain,
and yet, I believe Life will give me another kiss.
It'll get better one day, even if it's trying to rain.

On the unknown path
Life brings you many hazards
You become wiser.

I feel so dizzy seeing
the dancers in the square,
their shadows are flying
into a royal dimension,
like they are some riders
of the eternal flame,
the eclipse of doubt is
no longer in my attention.
Their eyes are speaking some
exotic and tropical truth,
that no one could ever
really understand,
they are like saviours
in the moonlight,
I'm impressed by their youth,
like paradise phantoms, in front
of the chaos, they never bend.
It's like going through a fine portal
into the arena of a ******,
where the hands of the virtue
are touching the house of arts,
she's the heiress,
she's our destiny's surgeon,
blowing away the storms
from the paradise of our hearts.
It's like we all gathered
in a fiery reunion
in which victory rises
from the empire of dance,
the pattern of the wind and
clever masks are in communion,
melting this silence
in a memorable romance.

I believe… that the night hides abyss of silence,
fleeting butterflies swirls and bends over my eyelashes,
gloomy shadows, shuddering cavalcades of emotions,
the seed of light breaks down the tangled paths of life …

I believe... that nostalgia has the perfume of a rainbow
what strikes the unwritten verse between my lips,
with withered sounds resonating on the alley of life
the noisy clinker wants the world to amuse ...

I believe... that the water's murmur reflects bulbs of light,
the sad dance of the autumn cuts the road to ruins,
the trembling forest, dry, now deeply broken,
wants to mourne in front of heaven, making things right  ...

I believe... that springs will mirror in the quiet waters,
the serene sighs will once whisper my name,
to disturb the calm of warm hours with a charming smile,
to turn on the desire with his mouth hungry for love ...

If your brown eyes because of my longing would weep,
it would leave on your soul black traces of mud,
I would fly like a hungry bird, I could not sleep,
from my blue eyes, the sad tears would grow in a flood.

If your palm would look again after my warm body
among the grass that is crushed under horse hooves,
the crystal of the night's skyline would give up its hobby,
on a curved field it would show you its moves.

If your ears would miss my voice in the summer breeze,
on the gravel of the path, among the crystalline rain,
you would hear the wind screaming among the trees,
your heart would beat faster, to relieve you from the pain.

If your lips would be kissed by my tear surprisingly shaped,
you would think that you are at a date in the sky's empire,
from the house of soul, even the verbs would have been escaped,
the vows would no longer burn like an intense fire.

But wait! An angel comes and your spirit will lighten up
in a world where things don't get old and die anymore,
to lure up beginnings that crowns our love, it'll be a new start-up
for us to be two stars uniting their destinies like before.

I love you in silence in the sleepy mornings of Monday,
wanting you to drive my tear away, without any commitment,
our hearts are still cracking like hot pieces of charcoals,
our lips being deliciously flavoured as strawberries and mint.

I love you on Tuesday, even if I seem insensitive,
lost in a labyrinth, like an insecure, capricious pseudo-child,
you take me flying up to the sky, in a charming idyll,
carrying me in your arms in an incredible adventure and mild.

Time... seems like slipping through our fingers on Wednesday,
enduring the words, the rhythms of my lyrics in the background,
singing our love even if we're crawling on the frenzied fields,
we make vows for better and worse, for always to be around.

Thursday doesn't forget anything when we are both together,
your magic hands, your shy eyes are pulling me back
to gather our hearts, to know that one plus one makes two,
looking at the horizon, to the fusion of colours, not the black.

I love you, you love me... we love each other until Friday,
as one body, one soul without any given restraints,
we know that our hearts belong to us more than yesterday,
your whole life, you put it on the tray, without any complaints.

I love you enormously on Saturday when I'm spoiled,
when your kisses have a hallucinating flavour on my lips,
radiating strongly, with a sacred and stubborn passion,
with an excess of emotions that are never lying to the eclipse.

I love you anyway and anytime, especially on Sundays,
passing through the thin border of my everlasting diary,
feeling that shake of a thrilling desire, a unique experience,
that you... make me feel like I am your fiancee, eternally.

I left my thoughts on the pillow
and started waltzing on the carpet barefoot
just to see that wicked smile of yours
while the cloud's throwing out its soot,
making alliances with the purple storm,
unwelcoming the beauty of the darkness
the one between the stars,
keeping us in the fortress of unfulfilled dreams,
leaving us all behind stainless steel made bars.

I left my thoughts on the pillow,
the bedroom sins remain in the night,
your kiss has left all my senses in turmoil,
for I was and I am a very old soul inside.
Charmed and crowned by Madame Tempest,
looking for a bone of guilt,
expecting the unexpected at a wedding's breakfast,
a brilliant book of menace she has built.

I left my last thoughts on the pillow,
and then I left the other dark half of mine
that annihilated this restlessness from my soul.
Now I can shout out loud: I'm alive!

No, I'm not a poet.
I'm just an interpreter of tales in which tears are drops of longing ...
Tales, in which I hear through my ears
echoes of an invisible and indivisible world ...
I sometimes like to pour myself a little red
and sweet wine of the silence cup,
the inner silence is erupting from me,
which seems to me to be a deaf-mute dispute between heart and reason ...

No, I'm not a poet.
Only words are fighting against me,
but still, I feel my heart is lifting in their arms,
with the same intensity as at the beginning...
The letters in my words do not need arguments,
they just want to free themselves,
to touch souls more and more, joining in verses,
their destinies being knotted with rhymes ...


No, I'm not a poet.
I'm just a human beeing who, for a few moments,
has a breath of inspiration,
swallowing with greed the air from the room
where I lay down my silence, my love, my longing,
trying to transform words into a vibrant power, almost tangible.
Sometimes I use words with a killing flesh of attraction,
like a masterful crowning of the letters that take hold of my pen...
and sometimes with a gentle, sweet glance,
whispering voluptuously, making my rhymes fall on their knees ...


No, I'm not a poet.
I just measure the universe with a hungry, critically eye-catching curiosity,
while the aroma of my coffee is flowing in the air,
escaping from the espresso,
mysteriously and dazzling...
I just caress the words on the pavements of the lyrics
peeled by the rains of the heart where the letters are sad and lonely...

Now I retire with a slight bow,
as an unspoken satisfaction, in front of all those who read me,
in front of the ones you know me...
A delusive lust to write a few lyrics has taken me by surprise...
maybe about truth, maybe about numb dreams,
maybe about the cure of lost hearts... which is love!

I'm your woman...lose me in whispers, in a caress,
teach me the steps towards me with and beside you,
wait for me on an edge of a sun ray from sky's address
and tell me you're afraid too...of yourself...of me...of the new.

I'm your poetry...sketch me as beautifully as you can
with dots, with commas, slowly, to make me feel the intrigue,
write me in many capital letters, speak me warmly as my man,
make me hear how your soul shouts me in echoes, not fatigue.

I am your perfume...smell me softly and gently as I cry,
pour on my forehead and on my lips profound kisses,
listen how you beat in my chest and make me fly,
and take care of your sadness on the nocturnal pieces.

I'm your air...breathe me as deeply as you can,
to adjust, to resonate as two sad violins from heaven's band,
with the sip of pure love falling from your heart on the divan,
we will write our silent hush...just the two of us, hand in hand.

I'm your ardent desire...in well-hidden hugs on the shore,
wearing for a long time a pair of stolen angel wings,
wiping your cheeks from wrinkles that are sore,
denying the idea of being passengers pulling the strings.

How pretentious can be the silence
in the mornings of the hot summer days!
I felt nothing no more, for patience
is not limited to formal love and it says:

It was just me. The rest of the world delivers
heavy waves stumbling against my wall,
trying to set right the serpentined rivers
of crying, flowing on my crusty skin of a wooden doll.

The Sun, a dragon that throws flames on his nose,
the Wind, too coward to show his refreshing face,
the Sky, discolored in the distance, it froze,
just the Moon closed his eyes, leaving no trace .

Me and I, were not well together,
but I have found the power to listen to myself,
sipping the sweet-bitter coffee, feeling a bit better,
I was learning again to live, to be an other self.

I knew that one day the blank pages will be coloured,
That the ink stains of my soul will disappear,
That I will forget about the storm that is uncovered,
the call of love will be on my side, without shedding no tear.

I knew that butterflies melody I would hear soon,
Birds chattering happy over the green forest,
That I will never hear poor souls screaming in the noon,
That all this will be simple memories on my wrist.

Now I extinguish my thirst with accords of violin,
Mistrust has deserted from my sleepless earth,
Regrets have become sad songs of flowers on my skin,
In the breeze of the morning, forgetting my wound's birth.

the taste of the wind
reminds me of the sea breeze
inside of Eden

She was staring in vain at the corner of the ceiling,
being threatened by a terrible insomnia,
her soul now feels like a big rock peeling
and she thinks: why wasn't meant to be, this euphoria?

Overwhelmed by a misunderstood sadness, guessing,
she is trying to gather a bunch of good thoughts,
praying for the happiness to give her good blessing,
for the fate not to take revenge anymore with its knots.

But then, a slight fatigue shadows her eyes
she remains petrified and breathless,
her cold hands, she keeps them tightened in disguise
and falls down above the paper, senseless.

No, she did not die. Nothing happened. Really.
Just her forehead lost its light, her eyes are absent,
nostalgia is reappearing, as a good old friend, freely
in the sanctuary of love, the demons are present.

She would've preferred for this to be just her imagination,
and the fear that devours her soul, would go away,
leaving deep scars on her with the life's delusion,
but no. She is not any wiser. She just wants to stay.

I'm going to meet with the yesteryear woman,
to give her a sweet, scented lily kind of smile.
I'm going to give her a hug and tell her it'll be okay,
in the yesterday's threshold, in her merciless exile.

There have been many tears and sighs in vain,
in the deserted wilderness, no one to comfort her.
With a ruthless heart, now full of bitterness,
the mistrust in love made her see everything in blur.

She always questioned her own beauty and worth,
but she does not bend in front of the kicks of the fate.
She keeps silence thinking that it does not hurt anymore,
her cheeks swallowed the tears running in torrents of hate.

Her gentle heart was pounding from fear in her chest,
the burden was too hard to bear, so she's leaving.
She braids now enigmas with determined words,
but the river fountains were lamenting and grieving.

I will tell her that tomorrow will be a brand new day,
the stars and the moon will always be there to guide her.
That in this life nothing is what it seems to be,
the sun one day will rise in her way. Yes, my dear Mother!

Time is passing by
I am here against my will
Who invented me?

I received a letter, written on a brown piece of paper,
with my name beautifully written in a diagonal line,
it said: “-Sweetheart, please keep a dance for me!
A first important dance at a traditional wedding! Be mine!

Let your black hair fall in waves, in messy, loose curls!
For I can bathe forever in the dark blue of your eyes!
Let's have the Sun, the Moon, and thousands of stars invited,
for our love will endure, it will burn in fire in the skies!

Let me enjoy that dance until the last signs
of your smile that will contradict me in deep silence,
not to get scared by the force of other mannered fellow,
I want to live the sweet life and reach out to the horizons!”

Breathless sweat began to burn my cheeks,
having the smile as lightning in the darkness of the night,
the heart bounced for a while, then began to lament
for the fear of flying towards the sky, holding me tight.

“-You will forget that dance, as if nothing had happened
on the unbeaten territory of the heart on some maps,
the colourful laughter will turn into an immaculate white
because love is worth living, don't ever let it collapse!”

I believe in the naive love that corrupts my heart,
in the volcano of numb emotions that falls apart,
in the sweet comfort, the one from late nights,
I believe in the words of my "still" unwritten sights.

I believe in emotions carried by the sweltering wind,
in you, for you've never given up, or let yourself be thinned,
in your paintings, painted in black and white or mute,
I believe in the silence that listens to your hush in the dispute.

I believe in the steam of the coffee as a trophy of caffeine,
in the healing of the wounded soul, without any morphine,
in the roads that led me once towards you, from the stars above,
I believe in remembering, in the feeling of true love.

And I believe in the sewing of hearts, the wiping of tears,
in the walking of the soul, the defeat of sweet fears,
in the sacred angels who walks beside you smoothly,
in gestures that can be read step by step. That moves me!

I believe in the couple who loves without searching for any reason,
in summer's hot stones, or lazy spring that follows its season,
in the stomachs where the butterflies are thrilling like crazy,
I still believe in the charm that fails to become immune and hazy.

I believe in the enthusiasm of being in love, in all of its forms,
in the shy and unblemished spring, and the thunderstorms,
in the iris of my so-called romantic eyes, like the blue sky,
in the wings of angels, the ones who never die.

Will I be able to believe tomorrow?

It should smell like trees with white pearls,
who cuddles the horizon with their gaze,
but the forest has grasped its grey curls
beyond that, only you could be my praise.

And it still smells like frozen soul and frost
looking for its mate on the sky's notice board,
guessing from its whispers the dreadful lust,
dreaming of true embrace they can afford.

It should smell like diffused, scented candles
like the peace-making dreams split into half,
carrying us on the shy path that handles
through sealed mysteries that makes you laugh.

But it smells like sorrow in which tears are hurting,
like thorns in the petals and the taste of bitter lemon,
longing for emotions and sweet words flirting,
oh, if we could say, "I've died and got to heaven!"

When your life is covered with many clouds and leaks,
when the frost of the winter causes you cold creeps,
when you pass through the world turning both of your cheeks,
just smile and forgive!

When the brightness of the sun makes you blind,
when the world just laughs at you and they are unkind,
when anything you do, there is always gossip behind,
just smile and forgive!

When you run into the night or the storm with only one shoe,
when you seek for a soul to divide yourself into two,
when you want to feel in the morning the sun and the dew,
just smile and forgive!

When all your life you just wait until the night falls,
when you regret your own life, seeing that nobody calls,
when you want to hit your head to the thick walls,
just smile and forgive!

When you have memories that hurt, that's a bloomer,
when you think they never die, later or sooner,
when you can look at all of them with a kind of humour,
just smile and forgive!

When outside is complete silence and for life you are able,
when the moon rises, almost divine and you feel stable,
when you see the glass is half-full on your table,
just smile and forgive!

Until tomorrow
I’ll send you paper kisses
From the night’s prison.