Like a feather that fell from the arms

of a sweet-voiced bird,

in this way wander,

leaving no trace behind you.

As if you were never there.

Because who cares?

The sun and wind that touched your face.

Thinking you are more important than this?

There is no less and more in existence,

but the mind fancies immortality,

and for this, it becomes like a heavy rock

than can never roll.

Alexandra Sotiropoulou




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