Grotesque flower
In the morning when the fireflies began to dance, the visions began to sing.
I looked at those photos that magicly move, some screams in advance begging for forgiveness, many rows of weird steel rhinos, and in the sky i saw flying iron eagles.
They gave us masks that scare us, glasses that anyone who puts them does not like the way it’s look, A package to the door today arrived, a box with a map, a dose, a route have been drawn.
They all follow a green star, there are no smiles, there are no songs just a radio that lies to us and news of the beautifull flower showing in other places.
When the rooster had already sung, with the fear of the mountain I turned aside my route that had gone, On top of the one that caresses the occupied sky, from there I can see everything that the birds sang, noisy and terrible songs of the iron eagles.
The gray and black brushes everywhere, and the provincial heat that seemed punishments to sin, since early they already missed the most dear looks, without their voices the others were lost.
Am I sad or happy that the sky was laughing? Or really the laughter of the green stars is that they came? In their hands came musical notes, which on their way who ever listened to them felt asleep in the streets.
At the moment everything dark then clear, some beautiful lines that crossed in the sky caressing , a beautiful flower on the horizon loomed, the perfect brightness a scene that everyone was amazed by.
For each finger the brightest flower turned, a bigger show was approaching, Her fragrance everyone loved, stroking the cheeks of fear fell in love, when its noisy introduction was over, the flower on the horizon had vanished.
The voice told me look up and follow the cloud, that at the end of these days with love of a flower everything is covered, and here in the cold where the seeds are born, with love I embrace, without the voice, without the faith, without the destroyed love.
When the fireflies slept overhead, I opened my eyes and saw the smile of the wind stop singing with the look of a nuclear love who hug us in the beautiful end of our love.