Two stars shine in your desert
Two stars, one white, the other blue, shine in the sky blue velvet. Light your sweet darkness, in the sandstorms of the desert. They wrap up your frail heart, your poor sleeping soul. Anima of wounded essence, torn by subtle forbidden ignorances. They are protective angels of radiant light, from East to West.
Mother: Hold on to your sweet dreams of sleeping white butterfly! Discover how authentic happiness is, sweet mirror, reflection of your look!
Fugitive words escape, from the beautiful youth, until reaching that fearful maturity. You fear oblivion, but not the cruel clutches of vile folly.
Your son is already a beautiful white steed, galloping through the green meadows of the promised land. Promised land, between beautiful landscapes and sweet aromas, with a taste of African Nepal.
In immortal paradise you live your most beautiful youth, drinking from the warm waters of the spring of light. Rays of sweet rain fall on the calm waters of your crystal ocean. You could be a wild gazelle or a red eagle, but you will never stop dreaming, or get drunk with the illusion of being a fire, a red flame of their excessive passion. Red passion that escapes the universe, among sweet sonatas, in a brief moment of musical silence. You live in transparent oceans of intense love, entering into a long lethargy of reverie.
So many captive errors exist in destiny! The alarm of an alarm clock sounds, of your old clock of lost time. Silver time, time that binds your sorry soul to my soul.
Mother, you know that I could be better, but I can not stop being as I am, ethereal and fragile; fragile as an innocent soul of a child. I am the child who cries in the sun and believes he is right, even in the strangest unreason. Unmeasured and unbridled to the universe, I find my soul captive, wrapped in tenuous black veils. Veils that do not let glimpse the sores, nor the thorns of the bitter petals of my sad heart, distressed and distressed. And your mother knows that I can err, and in that erring my step I must stop, stop only an instant, a subliminal moment.
Mother, I am the fruit of your forbidden love. Incessant love, without condition, in this ocean of radiant light. And you know how the truth is, how is the real freedom of this wandering people. You mother knows what true freedom is like, in this crystal ocean of your most fragrant flower. Fragrant flower of your wandering people, and of your most distant black veil.
Mother, they lost their dignity, at that time, those who deprived you of your beautiful noble princess’s apartments. Rooms hidden between petals of beautiful and radiant feelings.
Run mother with your mind, with your fury, in just a brief moment! Do not stop, or stop suddenly, before those abrupt precipices of your dignified and humble existence! Fly high with your iridescent wings, like enchanted fairy, towards the distant forests of your dreams and my dreams! Nothing like a white swan, in the hyaline waters of clear springs. Nothing like a captive siren, immersing you in the deep waters of your serene and lost memory. Serene and captive memory, memory prey to your sincere thoughts.
You are intoxicating perfume, mixed between beautiful fragrances and woody wild smells. Exotic aromas of violet flowers of cinnamon and Indian tuberose, in your sweet essence. Beautiful essence and presence of noble princess.
Mother you are a sweet princess, like orange blossom honey, like the manna fallen from heaven in the early days of our humanity.
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