Sweet textures of the glance in anxious journies,

demand for the edge,invisible sea of soul,

in a second of glory.

Inconscious pigeon carries the message

to dark and light mystery´s rules,

existing in the depth of green woods.

The solid pain is announced and confirmed

by the echo of glasses and laughes in other direction...

The fear of rejection.

The arrow of the angel begins its travel again.

It takes its time, flexible, await for the other in prelude.

The chain which blinded his faith,at least liberates him

 and open...the threshold of his freedom.

He´s thirsty of the kiss from her lips,

and she is so loving for him.

Both are absorbed in the same romance.Only one in the glance.

Today we have lost this warm meeting in front of such selfish and cruel irony.

People are carving their bodies and not their spirit and meaning of life.

Love is a lie and is floating like soap in a glass.

It is not going down, profound,to the depths of the cistern,because of the fear of mystery.

Let us love each other again,as ever we did,and don´t be a coward:Let us take the risk.