Time to cast aside all the demons
that have been deceiving my heart
in the past.
Time to chase the shadows
in a path without traces.
Time to jump in the unknown
leaving this sense of alienation
which, turned a victory into a
misery.
Time to forseen the lines
written on a deserted road.
Time....
a shadow hunted by poets
and the oldest illusion
of a bleeding heart.
©
Diana Mistera 17.7.2014
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