All birds fly towards the north
When the weather goes to be hot
And fly towards the south
When the cold spreads the wings
And destroys all nests

Except my birds
They fly towards your heart
Asking, screaming and shouting
You are the worst spy
When they meet your birds
They sing a deathless song
Making every poor land converted to be kind
And the loosing mind returning his mind
The old trunk gets strong
Branches covering with colored and smart
Roses

The bees put their honey
Making me taste it as your honey
Love, that makes me in happy
All the world gets funny
And the birds dance with harmony
The fishes swim in circles
Making the water spreads atoms
All over the world, that makes the flies tends
Once the left and the right at once

The important my birds get wide
Not distance, but from my sight
And I will whisper at your beauty ear
I hate my birds as they go to yours
That is obvious for all viewers
But I wish to be with them by yours

A cold and shackled figure,
Hardly a husk of what once would be,
In the mirror it reflects a creature,
No human would ever care to see.

So distant from all other life,
The isolation has become a defense,
From the twisted world of the living,
So filled with overwhelming strife.

Standing solemn, eyes cast to the dirt,
Shackles secured firmly to the rock,
The birds surround his prison to mock,
The exiled being, and his surrender to suffering.

Alas, with frantic flapping they depart,
A gentle hand presses to the imprisoned heart,
The chains turn to sand and drop him free,
Eyes gazing up to his savior to be.

With stars for eyes, and the cosmos for hair,
How did his troubles turn her to care,
As she came down from her heavenly realm,
To bless such a meager, humble life?

He rose to his feet and without thought, mirrored her,
His hand, to her heart,
"This heart is yours, and yours to keep,
Hold it ever close and find love, limitless and deep."

I don't want to read I don't want to write

I don't want to tell that old story

That had been mentioned every moment

The youth met that is smart

He loved her and she did

They had a deal to be married

All people had known that

But that man who is smart

He is not only smart but he had

A lot of money to get what he wants

He demanded her ,her parents agreed

Our hero had gone ,our hero had vanished

That old story had been finished

The papers must be torn ,the tongues must be silent

You must not read you must not write

The man who wants to convert the land

From yellow to black ,from poor to get plants

He began his job ,he faced the difficult

When he succeeded, when the corps were appeared

The minister took it and had him told

The president that he did his hard

To make that land ******, not to be old

The man hate all people he immigrate abroad

The papers must be torn ,the stories must be buried

There was a hero

Who converts the dream

To the light ,to be appeared

To transport his country to be advanced

He was accused, he was imprisoned

The accused was the topple of the govern

He could be escaped, he could run

The tongues must be silent, the papers must be torn

Forced by covenant to conceal
The wound you carry deep
Too dangerous far to now reveal
The secret you must keep

The truth, it’s said, can set you free
Whose truth, I ask my heart
Some truth must hide, to shadow flee
Or slay as a poisoned dart

A truth which must be guarded well
Though to be shouted loud it cries
Must be restrained and forced to dwell
Within a citadel of lies

A soaring fort of alabaster walls
Splendid turrets as disguise
Conceals pits beneath its gilded halls
Where love lies brutalized

Though we ache for all the world to see
To the heart, it matters naught
Two souls are not united by decree
Nor love with license bought

So truth must wait and a prisoner remain
In lonely cell, there to abide
Believe dreams of freedom are not in vain
That gates, one day, will open wide

And to think of those with one choice, already chosen for them
When I have freedom

My freedom is prison
The clock moves forward
Everyday
it keeps taking me back
to that loneliest hour
I can’t stop breathing, even if I tried

Something in the air just weighs me down
A flower watered to death.

When we are running
We are not thinking
When we are lot thinking
We are truly living.

We imprison ourselves in thought
We prevent ourselves from growing
We stay stuck in the same place
Which stops us from going.

If only we could be
Both thoughtful and free
Only then in life
Could we get what we need.

We restrict ourselves from growth
We build a prison out of the mundane
We see freedom outside
And we tell it to go away.

If only I could see
What I does to me,
If only you could believe,
What you do to you.