Sleepy wondering souls reflected on thousand broken mirrors
They are waiting to be found.
They are trying to run from their fatal fate.
Trembling with every wind blow, falling into ashes
to fly with the wind and then taking againg human shape...
going down that path many times over.
will they be found by peace?
will they be carried to heaven?
will they be presented to Hades?
Insomnia has given them its particular color
their eternally shadowy eyes try to disguise their woe and hate
their skinless beings has become hard, cold and dusty marble.
what a pittyfull view they are!
what a horrible spectacle:
a roman circus with the grace of a well rehersed ballet
accompained by geniuses singing voices.
Lost in their way to follow chains form by footprints
going in circles,
limping with every pace while bleeding invisible blood from old wounds
everything being repeted again and again and again in a timeless space.
*I´m not so sure about the tittle...
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