Our Books, How Are They?

It's time for our books to be closed
Go ahead, write the new pages of your book
Don't open your old books
since those every words written are
the desiring soul.

Write your new books with full colored dreams
Not our dreams that dark and gloomy
I myself will write my new book
with dream of a violet butterfly
whose wings are scratched.
with dream of raining tears
which drift the rainbow in the edge of the sky
when the sky is orange colored.

Remember our book of dreams
with the memory of a hope
that went down in an inability
ended with the palace burned

Your book, my book, and our book
is a journey without beginning nor ending.

Loving you, with life, blood, and dreams.

By: Moci Arane

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