When I hear
a song
The whole
world dances.
The melody
writes a story
In my head,
of gods and glory.
The
instruments are flowers.
The singer
is a sinner.
The rhythm intoxicates,
And I start
dreaming.
But it has
to end,
And the
night brings me to my bed.
Even there
I hear the music
And the
story is in my head.
Words start
dancing there
And freedom
is found at last.
Although it
doesn’t stay,
And I have
to fight the next day.
Climbing to
that mountain of inspiration
Is the best
solution, the best invention.
Staying on
the top is a peaceful moment
For me, unreachable
in the morning,
A duty when
night is coming.
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