October 12th French Quarter, New Orleans
I walk through the crowd
I see images floating and overlapping
Ghosts are dancing around me in the melody of conspiracy
With steps, silent but sophisticated
How many times have I gone through the streets of desire
How many stairs have I taken to ascend to this pedestal
Nothing matters, as if
But there is the space, the beat, and the movement
I only wake up in the rain of the October nights
I smell the moisture and the scent of withering flowers
There is the solitude flourishing around me
With lavishness I cannot bare
But the wind knows the perfect timing
It blows when nothing is happening
If the city is lighted under the same sky
All the people are sleeping in the same rhyme
When the night falls with melancholy
A knock at the door pierced through the darkness
When dreams disappear at the border of reality
The symptoms of my illness surface with undiagnosed viruses
Why do the nights tell me all the lies
Why do the mornings expose all my sighs
Cover my skin with your wounded hands
Leave my soul under its disguise
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