don't hurry my child,
to come back home -
it's not time yet;
the world is still asleep,
and in a rush
to take control
of things
it can never own
nor see,
with eyes filled
with screaming bats
in dark caves,
who only know
how to listen
with the folds
of their skin;
not with the primordial heart
that whispers to them
the ancient song of love
for everything
utterly human.
it's not time yet;
the world is still asleep,
and in a rush
to take control
of things
it can never own
nor see,
with eyes filled
with screaming bats
in dark caves,
who only know
how to listen
with the folds
of their skin;
not with the primordial heart
that whispers to them
the ancient song of love
for everything
utterly human.
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