miércoles, noviembre 16, 2005

Incredulous woman was idle around the world,
Sleepwalker without illusion,
She doesn’t believe in magic, doesn’t believe in love.
Fairy of a grey and dying tale
That end knows with precedence.

She never believed on gods and wizards,
Never thought with idyllic worlds…
She never had a dream
Until knew you
And began to dream to write you at least,
At least this lines.

And that unattainable
Who whimsical was elevated to sky,
Who that only it been longing for reach,
Was touched, stroked, deeply felted, loved,
Who are you :

A tale how end is ignored,
How context, thought was grey, ever will be colouring.
An angel and a believer…


An incredulous believer,
Dreamer fairy of a grey and dying tale
That was reborn in a colouring story,
And wrote for you this lines.

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