In my room, I am free
not searching for any
key.
A word in my heart
speaks of a thousand
years.
The winds come looking
for me
through the line of light
below the door
I did shut it close.
Now no more
Still I am in the same
room,
on the same floor
under the same roof,
I welcome sands and
dusts,
they hit and caress my
face
I smelt water, sensed
it coming with them,
every single day I
chased my shadow
unknowingly, overlooking
my self
just as the borrowed breaths
through my inert breathing
ran after me
fleecing the treacherous
years
holing my holed body.
But I am out of the chase.
A word in my heart
speaks of a thousand
years.
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