A CRY FOR FREEDOM © 2008

Life is only a part,

The one discovered in halves,

Like an unfinished work of art,

Where the truth hides in eternity.

The other, only after death,

Will emerge in a strange form of colour,

Like a rainbow appearing on the horizon,

Reflecting what was pain and love.

How do I know? I am the thread that divides,

The hemispheres of all that exists,

In the distance of rivers that expand and flow,

And in the mysteries that time persists.

I carry an idea, close to my chest,

Simmering in a bain-marie,

The simmering of the pains I am made of,

In the voice of the people, in the pilgrimage.

I am the echo of steps already taken,

The memory that never fades,

I am the half that seeks, in fragments,

The other part that, within me, still wanders.

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