With the chords of a song I had never heard, 10 minutes from being visited by a
ghost, an interesting thought comes to my mind...
The anchor is actually a helm which I have to thank for as I pass through these spectral breezes.
These breezes blow away to touch the horizon, and from time to time threaten to return, as once in the past, converted into overwhelming delusion storms. But now my compass has enough magnetism to differentiate when some ocean currents and blizzards want to take me the way to deserted islands ...
I do not listen to the songs of the sirens anymore, despite I find them increasingly beautiful and challenging.
The anchor is actually a helm which I have to thank for as I pass through these spectral breezes.
These breezes blow away to touch the horizon, and from time to time threaten to return, as once in the past, converted into overwhelming delusion storms. But now my compass has enough magnetism to differentiate when some ocean currents and blizzards want to take me the way to deserted islands ...
I do not listen to the songs of the sirens anymore, despite I find them increasingly beautiful and challenging.
The analogy is so beautiful, apt & poetic ...
ResponderEliminar