Where you fly,
where do you go?
Every time I see one of you
That rises on my sea.
What a beautiful vision,
see a plane
which part
rises slowly,
it almost seems
that whoever is on it
if he reached out his hand
can hear the sea.
And while you disappear on the horizon,
I think how much I would like to leave too,
to live new adventures.
I feel like I’ve already said a lot,
so much, maybe too much.
Since I started writing,
day after day,
I’ve always had something to say.
But now,
I have a lack of ideas.
A void
Because I feel empty.
It’s like a weapon
That has run out of all the bullets.
But let’s think about something more peaceful, I don’t know:
a tree, with the branches now dry.
Now I will enjoy the passage of time,
the waves of the sea,
the wind blowin’,
and peace.
.
If you liked it, let me know in the comments, leave a like and follow me
Thank you!
You can find it all here:
I crossed the Ocean,
In this huge blue,
I couldn’t find a clue,
so here I am
I was so lost in the sea,
into the eyes
of who couldn’t love me,
who couldn’t see,
and couldn’t be.
Even if I did love them,
but there’s nothing else to do,
I just wanted the truth,
and I know,
who will give it to me,
it’s not you.
This was my sickness,
my flue.
Now I have wings,
I don’t want to swim,
I just want to fly,
I just want to win.
Lo scrittore Volante 