Poetae Opus

A Morning Display

I only think of the Heat and the Death;

Even in silence,
I can picture such purple eyes,
Whose pupils are too big,
To disarm my mask;

I only accept a caress,
If it is worthy,
To get unveiled;

There are too many blind thugs,
Seeking for a golden hole;

I only feel pleasure when,
My spirit dances
In the sunrise;

Not even the blue sky is willing,
To move his clouds to know,
If the mankind is still being
The same race;

Crisis are everywhere,
And no one is able,
To visualize the end;

I only remain,
Between the sun and the wind,
To sing along;

The Truth cannot be believed,
Unless we are living in.