Where the world stops spinning.

Picture source

Like the old times

under the shade of the tree

which stands tall and proud

somewhere in the meadow,

we will hush to sleep

the monsters of our mind

and get wild

within the silence

and drowsy smell of summer,

somewhere in the meadow

till the stars show up

and carve galaxies

beyond the lustful vision

lithely bringing alive

our old and sunken

and rusty dreams

somewhere..   

in the wild meadow

we will elude

the daunting lies

and crazy shit

you and i..   

we'll come to life

at the very juncture

where the world stops spinning

where the mess fades

out of our little picture,

we'll come to life

in each other..   

somewhere in the meadow.

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