The roses of Luck

[onacarom]

Windows are a recurring theme in my daydreams, they are the eye of my house, the eye by which I look at what there is and what there is not ... And many times it is the eye that looks in from the other side,
And... how could I forget my clock, dragging the time, that slave condemned to measure himself through our passage
And the roses, those flowers that usually get stained with your blood.

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Leaning to the window
of my daily life

Leaning to the window
of my daily life

I stay there
without words
no concepts
or thoughts

watching how the wind ruffles the living thibgs
and goes around the corners
and goes around the corners

while the clock sounds
I get lost in my mind
asking me
asking me
how many things
does a thought mean
how many invented words
has the soul

I am only eyes
that look at me
and feel with moments
that wet my retina x2

Leaning to the window
of my daily life

Leaning to the window
of my daily life

Watching how the wind ruffles the living things
and goes around the corners
abd goes around the corners

and sometimes
Sometimes
sometimes removes thorns
from the roses of my luck

and sometimes
Sometimes
sometimes removes thorns
from the roses of my luck