22 czerwca 2012

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Sasha Damien
Sasha Damien

Picking Diamonds

I was picking diamonds from the heavens
When my hair got tangled with the stars in the breeze
Fireflies reached up in glee too, their soft glow dancing
Singing our mirth awash with moon-paint, I smiled
 
Then the night tugged gently, pulling away the sky
For the dawn to stroll in, with her show-stopper colors
The diamonds in my hands were spilling their brilliance
Reaching down to earth, to jewel my silent hopes
 
I learned to fly with the winds on rapture
Their swoosh, music to my hopes on wish-pegs
They warm themselves in the summer-sun promises
Waiting to burst alive on my future rainbows  
 
Some nomads we pick treasures from the future
The skies and nature our only witness
We walk with them prized in our hunting bags
Carrying hope in its precious revered status...

Tomás Ó Cárthaigh
26 czerwca 2012 o 17:06

We are but nomads in this life, that is true!

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Edgar
5 sierpnia 2012 o 05:58

I wonder what's inside in those "hunting bags".. sounds mysterious and I like it.

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louis gander
20 stycznia 2013 o 12:57

Never lose hope. Believe. :) ~louis

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