Tony Berlin

(Encino, California, USA)


I want to take into my arms, touching softly,
A tortured soul,
And to listen to it's low voice confession,
To it's words, twisted with grief, And to the secrecy of it's dreams,
that never came true,
To the moaning mixed with breathing,
To the music of shed tears,
To the thaw, that has come a bit late. I'll pour out like blood my emotions
All over it's wounds, the unbearable injuries

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