LadyMoon
Why Do We Dress The Soul?
The Wind
Outside the wind howls
In the silenced night of fear
It looks for
Nobody knows what
Furious
He knocks on the doors
That deny to him
Hard and indifferent.
Abandoned, sad
He cries the tears
Of the rain that he calls
It softens his face
Without form
And his stormy soul.
He moans slowly
Following his march
Of grieving
Without time
© 2000 Fernanda F. Rocha. All rights reserved
Dawn The naked light Blooms in the morning Cutting the dense thick fog That rises impotent To its heat The sun shines Overflowing energy That crosses the forest Waking up in a frozen sleep Of the humid night A music note flies lonely Coming from a sleepy wakening Deeply echoing Bringing infinite answers A hoarse roar Shakes in a heavy body Of a daring fatigue In the shown laziness Of the life that is not in a hurry © 1998 Fernanda F. Rocha. All rights reserved |
The Night The night is black, it's said Black as death. It will be the black death But it is not the night. Soft, velvety, warm So warm... And the sun doesn't shine in the night It doesn't need the light of the sun! The night doesn't have heat of the sun No, It doesn't It has the light that the sun ignores A softness calms, rested It is the black night to the eyes That look for the light that flees In the luminous night Of gray eyes © 2001 Fernanda F. Rocha. All rights reserved |