Not changing words nor titles,
Listen to the whisper of the steps
Along the roads and proud houses,
Listen, lips grasping the heaps
Of useless thoughts, pointless doubts,
Listen, keep listening closely,
Singing along with the eyes.
Listen, not hearing worthless confessions,
Neither false hopes nor a grudge.
Infinity’s lost, in the cast of a moment,
At the end of worn-out, chewed-up days.
Listening closely, no ways of retreat,
No plays of ‘what was or would be’,
Leaving one’s house made of dear old husk,
Listen –
to finally hear oneself.
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