In all headlights I look for light.
Like a treasure that attracts and moves me.
What is the feeling that really burns at the spirit level?
As I contemplate, I try to perceive the uncertainty of meaning.
Should I release the few bits of wind and freedom?
It is not yet time.
Immediate and obvious answer.
In a land on fire, I write all night.
I see the ashes of my scream that everyone pretended not to hear.
I would fall asleep in a dream if you ever exist.
Should I run away or wake up?
The waters that fall in my eyes run silently.
I look for a distant strand of light.
In the replica of a lost look.
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