My childhood routine grew sad, grey and blind
Through communism space invaded sometimes
With tunes of the fears while hope kneed behind
Of tears over dark, torturing the mind.
The freedom was something we haven’t yet seen
Just spotting what heart was willing to mean.
The faith overseen the eyes of terror
‘Till God had been thrown in writ of error.
‘Till angels were murdered between lies, and dark
Was lying its shelter for death’s wings to mark.
… Today I may find the roots of the peace
Yet fears override emotions through tears.
The sky is embracing my panic to calm
The deepest thoughts shaking my head, in a balm
Of magical moments I may spark on eyes,
But songs are still sad while falling apart.
© Simona Prilogan, Love is Young