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My Shores...

What is this vision of my shores on the river where
The spirit of water flows itself as a storm in my nails without warning
And life looks at very far
In the destination without being destined
In the way without being a traveller
Crossing all the borders of the card of my childhood
Sudden, a dream appears, strange incomparble taste with the one of my past road
what is this memory of my dream
In the limitation without being limited
In the feeling without being sentimental
Life suffers too while imagining imaginations
But what is this endless imagination
Nevertheless, all my pictures moved away themselves into the shadow of the moon
In the mountain without having the montagnards
In the jungle without having animals, deserted of the frozen snow
Life sets up the suffering of this coldness at the far end of the heart
But what is the heart that beats in cry, all nude one in the rain of the pain
Mixed in several colors of sadness
Wish in the future not to have the present and the past,hoping the life around love
But what is this love that seems more and more as a paint
Needs so much of tears around emotion to exist
In the consolation without being consoled
In the life without being dead, taking a bitter saveur
In this strange light of the confusion without having understood
My shores of the river leave on a endless trip...


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