sexta-feira, 5 de dezembro de 2014

A thing

In my path
i stumble, upon a thing
A thing it was.
A stone, judging by his looks.
Red, it glows.
Like the thing...The thing it was.
Cold…I know…
What it is and
Barely
I recognize his sound.
Something I once buried,
Deep underneath the ground.
Instantaneously,
My mind begins to bleed…
I don’t remember…
Where I’ve seen…

Slowly, it starts to speak.
A moan at first,
Until suddenly it begins to scream:
-Why did you left me here?

My voice, calm, feels like sour;
-Oh, my heart,
I need you no more.
Carlos Miguel Vieira
 ©2014

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