The eyes forget to see.

Kaleidoscopic memories
of Deserts and Mountain
Tops I have never seen.

Mystic music
Made from clueless fingers
That know not
The contours of this
Nomadic alien soul.

If only it were that
Easy to throw the baggages
And the canvases
And the imagination..

Sudden illustrations
Within these ever colourful
And illusory eyes
Of foggy river sides
And Wooden cottage floors

And that seductive silence.

Fill me up.
Refill the umbra
Let crimson pour thicker
Through these veins
That I were reminded of
Life again.

Fill me up.

For I have forgotten I will


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