Had the dreams of the future ,
as I stepped into the train,
Life wasn't picture back then,
but outlining of a frame ,
On the walls of freedom.
I could finally feel the rain,
See mommy I came too far,
Simply Walking down the lane,

Leaving home , tying knots I was sitting on the raft ,
Waving hand ,blink of eye I was away from the past,
Life was stretched like the ocean darker and vast,
I was floating on the stream knowing,
Good byes never last.

As my raft lost the stand ,
I saled it up with my hands ,
bonded in , packed the past ,
Left the life to the raft,
And Let it to float , down the stream ,
In cold breeze ,through the wind,

So Here I am in the rain,
Still laughing , and build the frame,
with a picture of the raft,
That keeps floating till it lasts.

With all these laughing barrels,
and groans,the wind passes by.
As the suns too tiered ,
to rush off from the ****** sky,
And the darkness falls off ,
laughing at this chaos in the light,
Fire brightens up the results on the ground,
The quest for being human is not erased nor drowned ,
As dead land under starts moaning a cruel sound,
There is not a bit of life , but fear and enough wound,
The man lying hear are not brought but bound,
To there rusted guns and those shells of bullets,
Only life found is on those smoken cigarettes,
Which once lighten by a living soul,
and dissolved in his breath,
Or on the packet where he packed the last three left,
Like he was willing the sun to shine different sides,
Or it may be packed for some other life,
As if he knew there's no escape
from this hell, this homocide,
For the sake of boundaries ,
and couple of human rights,
Cause the hands of leaders are quite short to climb otherside,
Which ended very well with the picture in his right,
Drowned in blood
pretty hard to recognize

I sit and i stare ,
i glow those thousand flares ,
in the silence with aroma of piece ,
build up by the attar in ferns .

i flew and i fear ,
i cry as i share ,
with the awe of the shade and sky above .

on the edges of night ,
sitting in the verge of the fear ,
when sun is never definit
and the coal inside had smoked up the dark ,
burning it all with a silence in chords ,
like chimneys .
when eternal darkness has it's way to the thoughts ,
end up having those large breaths in fog ,
lasts too long never to fade away .

now i am that weak and that weary ,
that falls on the slurry ,
on and on for the thousand times ,
smile as i lose then start ,
laugh once in all ,
with the wierd clinging in veins ,
as i make free fall .  ,
smile as if there'll be no more edges ahead .

how beautiful is the idea ,
that we keep .
moreover it's just a seed ,
been planted a little deep ,
which is nourished all along,
to be vulnerable when someone peeks,
how hard is it then to let go of the same ,


things of beauty never last ,
the joy in the bliss of the word great ,
clenched wrist , hard we tried ,
yet they all fade ,
for the thinnest of it , which we belong,
our feet already shaped ,


like the sand on the coast ,
they are vast and ashore ,
when hands been stretched far too long ,
for the land offshore ,


things of beauty , hard to keep ,
while awe of it unfolds ,
the very ounce on the skin ,
moaning the same old chorus .


and for your feet there is few ,
whenever the shape seems small ,
or sand is due ,
i will be glad to offer mine ,
but i am someone off thy shore ,
selling sand ,
far and too forgotten to find.