Philosophing About Time
It so happens that when the eyes cry
the memories fall like petals of time...
Impetuous at this hour, discourses
the silence.
Oracles of aged papers,
become thoughts and fly the most
noble winds carrying ultimatums ...
Maybe time remembers
that is the right time to
stop a little
dye all the moments
and throughout the universe,
stop all the torments ...
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