This Hidden Universe

Truly alive, my heart waits to reach  the night

While my fairy wings try to command my flight.

Floating over pink clouds and yellow trees,

My surroundings seem too  small to me.

War seems little and without reason to fight

Compared to high values which are right.

Hatred seems to be the mask of 

vanity

While love appears to be the route to charity.

Human souls float like myself

In a cotton like universe.

Come and visit me in this tent

Where the money is inexistent.

Only a crystal palace made of dreams

Wait to be felt and seen for you.

The way to reach this place is in your own heart.

Close your eyes and think

in anybody else apart

than you.

  MARIA CRISTINA AZCONA