The storks brought you an angel
So sing goddess, sing for him.
“If they could only touch his soul to understand.”
And the shiver whispers:
“You forgot how to live;
Verviv tnemmoc eilbuo zeva suov.”
No time, no life, no Death, will erase the carvings
He may spoil my days and disguise the future,
The history is ours.
And the shiver whispers:
“I’m above, in, and underneath you;
Rueiretni L a te suos, sussed ua.”
The mnemonic only brings the clown to meet the nails in
his head.
He finds a book, reads the prelude but feels the end.
Do you cry with him? Never enough!
And the shiver whispers:
“Do the math for a decade to live chaos for a second.”
And a second is wasted, as the previous and the next,
Making your path narrower than it could or should.
And the shiver whispers:
“I am the one writing these words…”
Will they be the next carvings?