In some hours of night, when I’m awake, have the impression to be called from some voices of the past but they are not of my. I’ve feeling of being already existed before today and be killed many other times. I don’t know if is simply a joke of my same mind yet I feel the pain of wounds produced by the weapons with which they killed me in all dead that I’ve lived. Seem to remember those voices and the face, wet from crying, of women who loved me. But if all this were true… then for what I’ve already lived, died or returned to live? I can’t sleep anymore than I open a window and watch out, all seems quiet but suddenly I’ve listening those voices so near. Is this the madness? Counting the time and have no idea why… counting and falling into the arms of night, it’s this the madness? Some time comes also the rain and I’m on the way without umbrella to feel like crying that I can’t cry… tears of past that washes me with all voices and their pain. Maybe it’s like to bleed all the wounds that my soul remembers. And they call me from the past for ask that I keep in mind something that maybe I had, something for which I’ve given my past lives… but what? I cannot understand if are words written in the blood or is just a curse, whatever is the truth I can’t understand. Rest in listening as the rain that falls now, but is rain of a thousand years… rain of a past that I don’t know if it is mine.

Autore: hermansji.:. - Resta aggiornato, iscriviti gratis
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