Welcome to Gaia! :: View User's Journal | Gaia Journals

how lovely
strings falling towards the pink sky. petals of the wretched mind come under my skin and it feels that some tears divorced.
Love was just the methaphorm,or however you write that complex imagination.
What really happened it was that golden doors open widely into the abism of some new future. Charming chorus dances over the mountain and i just watch and wait to expect something. Can't stay here forever! i need to stand up and run in the little places of this places i just mentioned,inside those doors,yes.

p.d. : i kinda hate that i have more nglish poems that spanish ones. is horrible cause that is my first language. i hope next time my tongue get twisted...or my fingers i suppose...
c: