domingo, 13 de março de 2011

To make the dream real


I have a dream ...
... and my mind is in the desert .
A desert lonely and infinity .

I make a dream ...
... and my heart is the music of my voices .
The voices telling me what to write .

I love my sonnets ...
They are my dreams .
I stop the moments only using my imagination .

And the moments are  future , past, and present ...
Are tomorow, yesterday and today ...

I wait a passion since my first  sonnets .
I write the passion , today I know this !

(Eber Vasconcelos)

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