marți, 31 martie 2015

Is there a cure?

Like a choros of frogs in a hot summer night ..they keep repeating the awful music that woke up even the deaf heart that was sleeping under the majestic moon , surrounded by a sea of stars..Motionless.
She could hear the whispers in her soft ear...there was no one there except from her past shadows. They came unannounced every time she was alone , they were not welcomed there but she would listen to them every time.It became a song she knew by heart.
The fog was getting thiker but she couldn't find the strenght to move.It was perfect. at least for now.
She was thinking about trust, about how much credit  she gave to the wrong people.She is so naive and hangs on to every word she hears.
Is there a cure?
Maybe not..
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