That the fear's force doesn't impede me of seeing what I long for.
That the death of everything I believe doesn't shut my ears and my mouth.
Because half of me is what I scream,but the other half is silence.
That the far music I hear be beautiful even though sad.
That the soul I once loved be always loved, even though distant.
Because half of me is departureAnd the other half is longing.
That the words I speak are not heard as prayer nor repeated with fervor,
Just respected as the only thing that remains for a feeling's flooded
person.
Because half of me is what I hear,but the other half is what I silence.
That my will of leaving becomes the calm and peace I deserve.
That the tension that corrodes me inside be one day rewarded.
Because half of me is what I thinkAnd the other half is a volcano.
That the solitude's fear stands back, that the restlessness with myself
turns at least bearable.
That the mirror reflects in my face the sweet smile I remember to have given
during my childhood.
Because half of me is the memory of what I was,the other half I don't
know...
That it is not necessary more than a simple happiness to quiet down my
spirit.
And that your silence speaks to me every time and more.
Because half of me is shelter,but the other half is weariness.
That the art gives us an answer, even if it doesn't know,
And that nobody tries to mess it because it is necessary simplicity to make
it blooming;
Because half of me is audience and the other half, the song.
And that my madness can be forgiven.
Because half of me is loveAnd the other half too!
 
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