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Τρίτη, 28 Ιουλίου 2015


The paradox immediately has to be dissolved 
With the bullets of hypocrisy I’ll have to be shot
My own, true happiness I will execute myself,
In the mirror of emptiness my fate will be met.

In the silence of the pain my soul is now trembling 
Whispering sad words that my heart seems to be treading
Teardrops from the psyche enveloping my existence
My past will be resolved echoing my resistance. 

The bullets passed next to me scratching my mind
Their purpose was to aim my heart with all its kind  
Forcing an arbitrary change in my courageous dreams
Like the fascist who hurts people with his lethal beams.

The murderer remote and beloved
Suddenly aims to the land of the devoted
Resembles a chased animal, the door slams at my face
Encapsulating me in the strange nowhere place.

The dust from the floor I solemnly collect
In the places he stepped a temple I will erect
My memory with sighs I will bitterly caress
A deposit on the tomb of our past tenderness.

From the land of the paradox sweating I return
Torn and alone I ran from the yearn 
My soul still entrapped in his bully, false words
Stops palpitating along my life and all its force.  

On my breaths I load the presents of forgetfulness,
The window of the chances I shut down in restlessness
Full of sweat I die out facing the uphill
The return to the land of logic is heavy and  unreal.

Nina Mag