Time is no more,
Passing like a melody,
Recordnize the strange.
And as I believe,
Feel the blow,
Suffer any touch,
You walk by.
I can see,
Not feel what’s real,
Try the taste of beer,
Cold winds melt.
Desire literally burns,
What is left,
Shyness makes it different,
Forgot living was life.
Martha Chiara 