LAST CYCLE © 2008

Life lurking, with friends around,

Movement desires a party, but hesitates,

Held back by the fear that, once better,

Nothing will be the same, if time allows.

Isolation becomes a silent choice,

A deep retreat into thought,

Holding onto the idea, already so painful,

In a prison of pure understanding.

The feeling is prevented from launching,

Into the vast pool of fantasy,

Where dreams only allow swimming,

For those who have the courage to say "good morning!"

And thus, the soul hides from the dive,

Fearing what dreams might reveal,

But knows that one day, without pride,

It will have to return to smile, to awaken.

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