Epilogue: Circles

Life has no cuts,
nor it draws a straight line:
Life turns in circles.

We follow its rails,
we fall and fall again,
Concentrically.

Fate put the wheels
and time, the wild machine
beating with your heart
that brings you once again
to the same place you used to be.

Circles.

Be careful, driver,
rails are like dictators.
The way wasn’t easy,
nor it is to move on.

After a circle, comes another one,
repeating paths and landscapes.
Some of them under the sunlight
and some others, just dust from old fires.
Sad enough to repeat,
but this time you
bear your mistakes at least.
Your wounds under your skin you carry
like a bird’s plumage.

Circles.

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