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The Night of the Blackbird

 

While I listen to the voice 
of the blackbird 
I look at your face
wondering 
why why why
it's impossible to change past

I think of a thousand things 
no clear thought 
stands out 
from the crowd 
that stirs stirs stirs 
in my mind
screaming words 
that cover each others

everything could be so simple
like the games of childs 
but you 
have made me grave
of your dreams 
and mines

we are dead and alive
under layers of time 
turned into stones
over our heads

while I listen to the voice
of the blackbird
singing singing singing
to the night 
to the stars
that are still what they are
inertia over inertia
like our life

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