Nuno A S B Soares

Nuno A S B Soares Jan 2016

our sky

may these wandering stroll
finish swiftly somewhere far,
where our skies meet.

where sadness is but
a shapeless, amorphous cloud
dissolving amid joyful cries.

where my tears cross
your light in glimmering
beams, a whispered rainbow.

where I can feel
small again, born again
in ever flaming leaves.

liberty will never perish
love will wash us
where our skies meet.

Nuno A S B Soares Jan 2016

chosen path

A mulish tread after another,
in a constant pace, ******, boring,
Indifferent to why, when or where,
Scorched by a violent hiss, prompting
another tread, another obsolete yard.
Oblivious to a world behind a glimpse,
were you not too blind to see

#blindness

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