On the heights above, where the voice of silence - are only a whisper
And every sound even
doesn't reach Gabriel's ears.
on that waiting pole
The reflect of your scream
will be repeated in a rainy day.
at a lava of soil
Like the rhythm of this verse of my poem
In the field, where you grow
In tides of the fountain of love
In reflection of this echo
Damon
Tuesday/09/06/2009
Posted by Damon
