Thursday, December 15, 2011

The Door

You crave for pain, and you think you have reached the hell,
Blasphemy, crude, immorality, you just ringed the bell,
The door hasn't opened in front of you yet,
Wait for it, it will come out and show you the rest,

Amazing the face of immortals, the defiance yet the humility,
Mixtured with the appropriate reactions and the instense gravity,
Welcomes inside the portal throught THAT door,
Every step I made, every muscle I flexed I could see myself on the mirror

Enter the courtroom that led to the cold and dusty graveyard,
Laid on the floor, disturbed, cobbled and wobbled stones resting on roses in the boulevard,
Now that has gone and won't ever return read the lines, clouded,
Where am I and the place so not rusted yet so murky, without any crowd.

Silence, shaky peace and disturbed silence, a fragile moment wanting to explode,
Felt like the life balanced on every size of shapes that are seen and are about to erode,
Plunge and not drown, the thoughts were flowing too deep and fast,
It was nothing but a place where our lives were placed and were being draft.

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