I don't wanna be an angel anymore,
I'm so boring,
I need a salvation...
but with my feet on the ground
like a being of material creation
I don't need wings anymore,
Cause I can fly
in my imagination...
with my mind on the eternal air
like a soul with a good hesitation
Jump into the illusions
of the Earth
beautiful, full of flaws,
green, but dry...
I let me take
take me to your nest
but what would I have to do?
I'm a fallen angel without a vest.
Free your human mind,
and so you can fly,
fly away from this sad
and crazy world...
Fly me away,
fly me away with you,
and save me from myself
after all I don't know what to do.
Claudia Fernandes
30 de novembro de 2008.
domingo, 30 de novembro de 2008
Humanangel.
Marcadores:
Alma,
Anjos,
Auto-análise,
Dualidade,
Dúvida,
Existencialismo,
Incerteza,
Poesia
Solitude
I am a solitary woman,
that nobody knows
I live in a solitary shell
my shell
where nobody goes
My mind is in a deep shadow
to cross it over is not allowed
it’s thick and never fades away
I can’t even talk aloud
cause I’m afraid of revenge
which I try to soften with a pray
My heart is broken in pieces
is life the only guilty? maybe not;
maybe I am the real guilty
I’m the one that write the plot
of this pathetic play
where I am covered with a rotten quilt.
Will this fate my fucking fate?
only the fate knows the ropes…
no way! It can’t be this way.
is it fade that choose the popes?
I don’t think so, and I am stuck
the only color I can see is gray.
Please, my mind, I beg you
I know how to carry on
leave me alone, go ahead
I can’t be your robot clone
I got the strength to fight for
solitude doesn’t make me sad.
Claudia Fernandes
30 de novembro de 2008
that nobody knows
I live in a solitary shell
my shell
where nobody goes
My mind is in a deep shadow
to cross it over is not allowed
it’s thick and never fades away
I can’t even talk aloud
cause I’m afraid of revenge
which I try to soften with a pray
My heart is broken in pieces
is life the only guilty? maybe not;
maybe I am the real guilty
I’m the one that write the plot
of this pathetic play
where I am covered with a rotten quilt.
Will this fate my fucking fate?
only the fate knows the ropes…
no way! It can’t be this way.
is it fade that choose the popes?
I don’t think so, and I am stuck
the only color I can see is gray.
Please, my mind, I beg you
I know how to carry on
leave me alone, go ahead
I can’t be your robot clone
I got the strength to fight for
solitude doesn’t make me sad.
Claudia Fernandes
30 de novembro de 2008
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