Eppur si muove

Reinvent, commute whatever comes to mind,

It will still be bound by the laws entwined.

Abnegate, disown everything in sight, 

It will still exist in all of its might. 

Trick yourself, believe you will change the fate,

Counter all the voices that could make you wait. 

No, it’s not pure logic that will guide your lane. 

Contrary – the madness is what keeps you sane.

Counterfeit Lullaby

The downside of illegal dreams
Is that if cought you do the time
Not in the prison of the world
But in the jail inside your mind

And if you look to ease your soul
These aren't the lines you shoud've read
Because a warm and healthy sleep
Is not for those who steal a dream

Rotten cloth. A poem about life.

We roam the seas with paper boats
With paddles made of rotten cloth
Chances so small and so remote
That we will travel beyond the docks

Backwards

I saw a man the other day,
The oddest one I ever met.
His eyes connected to a point,
His face in smile of sour regret.

He held a clock is his right hand
And stared at it, but was away.
Just as I took a closer look,
I saw it ran the other way.

Not to the right. Yes, to the left!
A time-machine by all its means
Trying to turn the hands of clocks,
It was portraying our defeat.