Wednesday, March 14, 2012

Right hand

Eyes when closed or open,
through the broken glass ,
always its the same season,
night or day i don't realize.

Converge do thoughts,
as the very own hands in claps,
diverge the execution,
as the crack in break of heart.

Worlds ways don't, i understand,
give up i do well, never do i stand,
with prejudices of chance i grow,
like a shattering glass i give,
in circles of illusions i row,
though all hate is the way i love.

In contract i tend to be,
loose i bend to be,
lost hope i lend to be,
on top empty shell am used to be.

Silence paves great paths through,
nuisance lays the paths beneath,
diplomacy shaves the paths above
and violence carves the ways back.

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