Variation On A Theme

 

There's a circle that prays to be a straight line.

A straight line that prays to be a circle.

Always someone, at the other side of your prayer, that longs for your burden.

For once, after all this pounding, you wish that the wall will bleed.

Or that the blood from your forehead, will be the outline of a painted sky, and all these words you could never say, will fall like stars at your feet.

Light the way, burn the doubts, lead you to that elusive dream.

The hands of the clock will steal minutes and hours for you, so that this day will last weeks, months, this night will last for years.

And all this silence, will be ashes.

And all this noise, will be the echo of a song, a prelude of beauty.

No more circles, straight lines to nowhere, and numb screams disguised as prayers. 

A moonlight arrow will pierce the heart of the world, and all its wonders, will fall like missing pieces to your puzzle.

And this dance will last forever, until there's nothing left, only our shadows, cracking the mirrors of the rain.