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A seat on a bench I see crows flying I’m looking at them with curiosity they can fly away when they want. I feel the light on my skin. I’m burning while my body stays beside me. Am I dead? The stone was thrown into the lake, the water is rippling, but anything is moving. A voice is going to abate like a light before midnight.

I pray that the voice doesn’t disappear while screams are calm as a Syrian genocide. I already stay on the same bench, and the world goes on. Suffocated by the fears. Time is running for life.

It every day goes around it a prisoner of an old mistake. I still fighting with myself.

Will we be free to know what love is? Will we be ready to repay our debt?

I have a rendezvous with it, and I can’t miss it. The tomb is open and, it has already written a name. It rests in peace, its life It has taken. It Is not late. I still fighting but, the song remains the same. Colours have been transformed into spectres like regrets are turned into delicious sweets. I know, I have a rendezvous I will not miss it.

I’m sleeping upright, another me is till seat on a bench and the Ravens still flying over me, while the third dreaming beautiful voyages. They’re talking to me; they’re observing my soul. I’m completely naked. Undefended.

In front of truth like a mirror reflex, your image as a light embraces the darkness we live unaware. That stupidity, I have a rendezvous, and I’m still here. Oh gosh, it was a dream what a fucking idea I’ve had. The earth swam in worms like ravens peeing on our head. This is our life.

There are more open tombs that people live.

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