There are Octobers in my dreams,Penning the tales on magic leaves,Singing the tune with angels’ psalms,Rejoicing peace through Autumn’s fall.When mornings paint the heaven’s arms,There
Since time compressed its game awaywith aiming bubbles everyday,my thoughts depend on coffee play,bicycle running like through day,ideas’ table could essaythrough older me, childhood’s portray.
Noi șovăiam ades pe cale Împleticind prejudecăți Pe-un colț de gând iar de prin cărți Scântei trudeam pe o cărare Sub geana zilelor în care
“The ‘Muse’ is not an artistic mystery, but a mathematical equation. The gift are those ideas you think of as you drift to sleep. The
Looking out from my window, I glanced at the skyThen I thought what makes these moments quick to fly. I wished I could pause the
There run through the timeThe rivers of dreams,While looking to shineMy senses and mean. There flew through the spaceNice smiles from the hope,While looking for