THE VOICE OF HOPE
Dream often being a trace
Only now lost in the middle of nowhere,
Luck in another face drawn,
While my way; addition, sprawl,
Looks up losing seeking star
At night when I see it, studded,
And when the moon in my room invade
Ray tracing beautiful alabaster
Dared to believe in eternity
Love that redeems himself in clarity
And this infinite shapes alive in us.
So when designing a new framework
My time in your arms I frame
Listening to the gentle voice of hope...
MARCOS LOURES
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