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A Letter To My Children

Oh, my beloved ones: dare I say that my generation had the previlege of living in the most exciting times of all?
                                    We had it all: it has been a time of plenty for a large part of the human race. Science gave us so much incredible things that none of you can even start to imagine living without! Across the skies we have machines, heavy as houses, flying like birds; we can talk and see each other from noon to midnight apart; we learned and taught like never before... And still...
                                    We had richnesses beyhond the wildest dreams and, for many, the chance to cross any border. Our generation had it all... But...
                                    We also saw wars and famine and disgrace... We could have stopped it, for we had the means. But we also had greed like never before and payed tribute to the gods of present days. Betrayal became our pray, lying our lord! Our eyes, that onc…

Desert Heartland

The rumors have fled the furious wind by landing in the quietness of my broken past. Over the clouds the sun sat on the high peaks that reach for the stars. Down bellow, where the plains of plenty mourn for the glorious past, tears tell stories of dreams that were never meant to be. And the only thing left as a reminder is the empty look of a child that never knew how to smile. Yet, the small flower shivers with the passing of the chilling wind from the east. The future is just a shadow on the wall alighted by the fires of hell.

Streets of Yesterday

I run into a dream last night. I saw fires in every corner of the city; people gazing into the emptiness of the flames; children in quiet tiredness like stones cooling after a volcano eruption; women trying to cover their nudity behind the shadows of the alleys... I heard also loud silences coming from the tears of old men as they took trembling steps toward the abyss of shattered doors...
I wandered the streets to find no birds in the red skies over my head; no dogs barking in revolt against the sounds they alone can guess.
I fell on my knees to beg for the impossible return of joy, only to find a grayish morning with fat tears falling from the stars like leaves from trees in the shivering cold of a wet fall!
From a broken window my eyes only had a glimpse of memory while my soul, no shame forgotten, wept like the silence rendering the day after in the battle field.