Windows

The castle always regarded my morning glance,

from the hat of the hill, as I smiled to it.

Apple trees embraced the place with their arms

like a warm hug in a vintage capsule,

the wind smoothly brought the flowers blooming perfume

while my thoughts waltzed with the old soldier’s mind

who has gone beyond the blue limits,

leaving behind all the glorious stories

enclosed between the stones, gardens and tunnels.

Somehow, the smell of old days knocked on my windows

speaking their struggle out

in a calm symphony of remembrance,

while next to the fort

the steel plant made the reality up

through the intense smoke, dust and wonder.

The past was still picturing the ideas in the present’s core

 yet another war at my windows

was murdering my vision at the evenings dusk.

The nights covered the horizon

with a dark pillow.

No stars yet to come

to rescue the hope from the blackness

In all those frozen hours.

Childhood was silently passing the caves,

gazing to freedom windows

opened in the future square.

Dreams swung the yearning at the castle door

Playing cards with karma

Over the communism eyes.

Today the steel plant became the memory

at my windows glance.

An empty city regards the mornings.

A modern war

is still murdering children’s vision.

Everything is new but seems had passed the bridge

Between then and now.

The present’s core is a mirror reflecting the past

through another smoke, dust and wander. 

The same desire is flying through time,

To love and be loved till reach the happiness.

Anything else is just the colours’ stories.

In all this contemporary bloodshed

Peace remains the Cinderella

looking through the inner windows. 

… Dreams swing the child’s hope at the castle door… 

@Simona Prilogan,

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