And so I left
myself fall
I was at the
top of the cliff
Climbed there
with only one purpose
To fall
Hoping to
build wings
In the way
down
Pushed by the
cold wind
And so I fell
Eyes closed
Faith in my
soul
It seemed I
was falling too quickly
Then I slowed
down…
And I was no
longer falling
There was no
floor bellow
There was no
sky above
Just me
Pensei que tivesse vindo cair ao blogue errado...
ResponderEliminarTambém és boa poeta em inglês. Gostei.
Kisses, my dear friend...
Minha querida
ResponderEliminarPor vezes sentimo-nos assim à beira do nada.
Um beijinho com carinho
Sonhadora
How beautiful!
ResponderEliminarThe most perfect fall is the one done voluntarily that leads us to feel ourselves… only ourselves, and to know that we are…
As always, your poems make me fly.
Kisses, dear Isa!