Dark Gray Walls And Turquoise Accen

My muse

It 'a cry for help, an invocation to God

How do I live without a soul?
Brutale
hope to have more reason
that grease the wheels of wisdom
forget the death of the heart.
Witness for a fast time flies
in an abstract without color.
Empty canvas without love, you
of my art muse
pain and do not leave me helpless and defenseless,
flying on rooftops and in the sky, muse
oh, oh woman, oh sigh,
but always comes back as blessed food
hungry for a man of your affection!
I'll wait.

Vincent

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MEMORIES

me of engaging in ancient times when the fire struck the

heart burning passion any reason. Jealousy
then tore my body
if only one eye rested on your beautiful face.

Together we discovered the first embraces. Trembling with emotion
kissing and caressing the words
years of love.
Rubavamo time to time, knowing every hidden thought

each other without any secrets.

But then, as
sails by the waves struck
find shelter in safe havens,
our lives, pushed dall'incoscio,
took refuge in peaceful homes.

No more tears and torments
acres but only joys and pains of a normal life,
not the cutest puppy in search of pampering,
but brave lions in a hellish world.

When I see you again proud and haughty
with a cold mask away
do not know if you're happy and sail away or regret your
become.

For you are like me then!
Nothing has changed,
is as if time had stopped
to tell a love story
time for you and coal ash.

Alienacja Heraklesa Emmanuel Mounier

Parallel Lives

Far bodies,
distant eyes,
parallel lives, goals
disjoint
not matter if met!

You lived inside me, like a second soul
,
using my mind, canceling
feelings,
emptying the reason, my being
man. To no avail


the short trips, long vacations or


on Mount Olympus in search of Venus, or off-piste

at risk of life.

arrogant and impetuous

every time your image is consolidated
denying space, time and
every fleeting moment.

I'm sure we'll meet again!
Where there is no day and night, the stars

swimming in a sea glowing
where parallel lines converge, and where

the sound of the voice is the harmony of love, where there are no boundaries

but transparency and infinite spaces.

Yes, there meet again!
free to love,
Happy flying,
to run among the flowers,
on vast green fields, the infinite eternity

of convergent eyes.

Vincent