Nocra

That was when the yellow leaf Was flying outside the window. A cold wind opened the door. If rarely came. Only dust and mould. Memories bring children's laughter... And the singing of birds warmed by the rays of the sun. Was it real? Or was I always

Trying to hold back tears... An elephant never comes back Although still visible in the mirror. But something strange and unfamiliar... The little Butterfly dying. She shook the dust off her wings And she is trying once again. Trying to fly up into t

There is no heaven, there is no earth. But who was shouting and scratching the windows? Hiding in a shroud of icy stars. That cold wind howling And like a corpse Is knocking by bones at door. Silently the snowflakes soar... The streets are empty now,