
Enchantin' night
-the bird's sound-
i met the moon during her flight
and got lost into her dreams
-beautifully-
Could i
get drunk of your sight?
Marghy
"When an hand flows impatiently on a wasted piece of paper, do you know, perhaps, poet, where the way will run through?"


The first time i flew
i flew into your heart
Deep
so deep
didnt find the floors
of your immensity
didnt touch your skies
-didn’t dare, so blue-
but i saw
and heard
the colors were so bright
and the music so touchin’
i could only loose myself in you

