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Tangibly The Wind
Winter descends, a cold round moon,
around my soul; I pretend to be alone,
I am not, thus memories and ghosts,
will hang my dreams on wall festoons.
Around me, caresses are dispersed,
odd dimensions of a symmetry existed,
whispered kind apologies are listed,
asunder reveries from a December, west.
Winds howl outside my door and bring
music of dithered notes, coldly emitted,
a synthesis for lonely souls is drifted,
in foliage of tall pines and dusk strings.
You won't die! I 'll be taller than the wind,
my aptitude will defeat wrong causes,
you 'll be a moon to embrace my losses,
and I an eulogy wrapped by a purple lint.
And I shall spell ancient words of valor,
and other that will embrace the stars,
the first will invite Angel guards candor,
the second will confine ails behind bars.
You 'll fly in skies happier than the moon,
your smile will adorn all dreamy feasts,
you 'll bathe in the caresses of that tune,
tangibly the wind will compose in mists.
poem
by
Giorgio Veneto
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