Poezja

Some say we are rather in Heaven
And only the song reminds that it is endless
Then it looks like to live is to tempt
It is a letter or a book somehow

For someone it reminds of a wound
Not by the matter of disdain towards what there is
For it is just fallen and hurt
There is a wound inside the existence itself

For someone it reminds of the worlds seen
As they travel the more they tempt
As they get crazy they wish to live so long
Just to intensify the longing