Here's shapes, here's colours, here's humans.
Weak mortals, chained to the earth,
Creatures of clay as frail as the foliage of the woods,
Unfortunate race, whose life is but of darkness,
As unreal as a shadow,
The illusion of a dream.
They were making a fool of him...
His wings were crooked, out of control,
He was down.
Those sailor men were screaming and laughing.
He was imprisonned,
Struggling to escape from the waves that had tied him down ,
Like those Mariners floating over and over on their tiny boat,
On an infinite ocean.
He was exhausted.
Only One of the sailors seemed moved by this sight,
He was tenderly watching the last breath of a long journey.
For a moment the eyes of the Mariner
And those of the tired animal met.
The look of a friend you know you will never see again,
Just rest now and soon you ll be fine, thought the young man.
Before the sea swallowed him,
The Mariner saw the bird almost whispering to him.
Those last words are still floating upon the morning breeze,
Still whispering to the willing creatures.
Those Words give wings to the mind and make men soar to heaven.
As i fall, the wind will carry me on.
released November 3, 2015
Artist: The Chasing Monster
Album: Single 2015
Hometown: Viterbo, Italy
all rights reserved