"Surrealism is the magical surprise upon finding a lion in the closet where one wanted to get a shirt" - Frida Kahlo

Sunday, November 30

Shadows of the past



I walk away from my self and the man I used to be, dances on… my legs don’t stop. I swirl into this new life I don’t want to call home, for I see nothing of that here. I only hear a waltz of no return.
I’ve searched all my life for something worth holding, embracing life it self. Still, I keep traveling. I do not know the date of my return…
Dance me to the end of death my prima ballerina. Hold my hand as I fly. Hold my rapture red soul… for my eyes are no longer grey.





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