Poetry

You will find one day,
water footprints, when
seismic events stop in eyes.

Don't you think a system
of mutual respect should-
be followed, before the
conception of a new rage.

Moons come and go.
You upturn the clock racing
the time to-
reach infinity.

Where the hundred stars
die daily, do you still
want to become a blue light
in the misty house-
of headstones?