Every morning, a heart is beating,
From the wind, so splendid,
A calling, thoughts and friendly,
At night it searching and sitting...
Creating a fairytale inside,
Melancholic soul grows into her light...
Lights of days,
Lights of history,
Lights of taste,
Lights of mistery!
They're lost but they're beside a sensitive way,
They don't know to explain but they found
A comprehensive vision without pain...
Two hearts and just one soul,
Touching his lips by the words,
A kind of shadow never lived before,
So hungry of poetry that he drinks
That they knows...
So hungry of his knowledge...
A begining, a new courage...
Coming as a message in a bottle,
Across the river, oceans and lands,
A story wants to begin with two friends,
They don't know what means,
Maybe philosophers or old godness knows,
Just let then go and hold her hand,
For trust or more, something blessed,
Maybe it never ends....
(Joyce Martins)
