Autumn days Flew away as water in a creek, spouting and dancing, Blades of light to make reflections on the tiny waves The woods as a world on its own And there she was A season on her own Alone and confident Wandering among the shy autumn leaves Along those lonely footpaths And tiny waterfalls Heading to nowhere In the wake of tales
So long forgotten Unreal sensation of beauty She dropped from who knows where Only to remember that the world Doesn't follow any logic Illusion of linear sequence Confort zone of well established beliefs Naive claim to know And live Non linear is the rule Chaos is the name In those autumn days Comments are closed.
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AuthorA general blog, but still personal. The name as a tribute (my tiny, personal one) to the Crimson King. No specific matter, no specific path or target to be followed or reached. A space where to collect events, ideas, perspectives coming from the world around, but still under my own control. Archives
February 2020
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