June 1998, Noe Valley
A secret whisper
Is echoing in the grand Coliseum
I jump out of the moving train
To take my last glimpse
At the night rain
Dripping silently on the ancient stones
In front of the gate
The gate of history and tyranny
Is a flood of sentiments and mysteries
My secret mind
Buried under the forgotten soil
Is absorbing centuries of creations
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