deep inside of me
a stillness, much opposed to the traffic of every day comings and wrongdoings;
so when i look into the empty eyes of a dancing figure
i know there was a man that put a soul in there
and i am just the observer of another
piece
of solitude.
and so i saw today. my dream was a dream another man had dreamed of, in 1925;
and i wonder, where will the color of my dreams lead me to,
when i get there i might find out it's too late.
an incessant light, a beacon,
a ray of hope, a glimpse;
art that trascends four thousand years
has kept us together for what will only last longer than any of us.
any craving soul will manage to scour the surface
of what it means to be remembered;
leave a mark that will reach someone else,
in their dreams, across a crowded hall;
oblivious.