Beneath the evening's astral embroidery, a kiss blossomed shyly
Beneath the evening's astral embroidery, a kiss blossomed shyly,
A spark of hope, golden and gentle, in the fabric of the fleeting.
An arching celestial, lips gently incline towards the sea, aspiring to eternity,
And retreat serene, with the measure of the waves, in a whisper of dance and twilight.
They watch hidden, wrapped in crowns of smoke of memories,
A mysterious echo of silence that embraces the lake, the mirror of those unspoken words.
Hands unbound, through a labyrinth of dreams swayed by the wind,
Like birds that, in flight, relentless, lose themselves in the high blue of the skies.
And we, in the duet of destinies, embrace silences, see them as endless crystals,
Where once the candors of smiles now get lost in a rime of ice, as inheritance.
With locked doors, our souls paint in the canvas of days gone by,
And the tears of heavenly altars crystallizing in the air construct the invisible sign overshaded.
A massive wall rises on the horizon, the hours divide with implanted needles,
The plains of our love, now arid steppes, thirsting after the rains of falling stars,
Our chambers, once vibrant alcoves, now wait desolate,
Watch with the patience of a statue, coveting the brilliance of magic that brings love into mystical rebirth.
And there will come an interlude, somewhere, I do not know when, illuminated by reborn lights,
Unfolding before us the hidden play of the divine fragment and of mystery,
When the maelstrom of love that lay in doubts and questions,
Leaves behind only two solitary souls, regal in their peace,
Enswathed in a cocoon, where nocturnal butterflies await to metamorphose into a new flight.
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