What was lost
When the sun was young,
I run its golden hair through my fingers
We breathed slowly with our new born lungs;
air sizzled in my mouth like a popsicle
These days wind sung for us,
she tasted of corn and cherries and her eyes were blue
The life was a chain of consecutive existences;
dislocated, day by day
We fought for being like there was no tomorrow –
which was often a case in those days
Memories were fresh, like if time happened all at once
Trees spoke to us; he was the Leaf and he was always
we believed
Laughter came naturally on lazy Sunday afternoons
when nothing to do was sacred
For most it was the outside;
For us it was together
We thought freedom was to move on,
We know it is to stay the same
These days sun went down and we couldn't part
we knew that what is precious is often lost
I had ice on my lips and the world in my heart
We were reborn to its melody into humans
It was when the sky opened into universe;
That we invented religion of our own
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