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Pastel bones .^.


Such pain that resembles, like an heaven embrace. You fight to much and the life keeps flipping away from your bones! Even the wind is so green, like the flowers on your skin. Alone is something, like beside your unknown happiness! Hold on to the breath that disappear from your lips, like a touch. If in your loneliness, you will not let go of me___ that will be some kind of lOve that may be true! Quiet silence never will leave you alone, like a whisper in time. In pieces of an broken heart is my body, like a blue sky, I will dream again someday- perhaps! Can't find the words of a butterfly, like a candle light. But what if, He choose me to be His life bouquet? Waiting of spring petals in a sadness leaves, like sweet pastel.*.

                                                                                              - A. A. Popovici,

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Mântuire dulce,.

Un glas mi-a rămas din Tine ! De ce mai respir ? Mântuire dulce, mai iubești ?! În mine sunt lacrimi . Aici,! .......... Îmi este rămășița sufletului . Oare mai respir , Mântuirea Ta dulce ? Atunci când, Inima mi-se desprinde De trup în durere .? Al Lui va fi umbra mea . Mai este ea dulce atunci ? În mâini îmi țin cerșitele cuvinte , Acolo nerostite, ce vor rămâne ? Lasă să ardă suspinul în răni ! Târzii sunt orele trecătoare .

                                                                                   - A. A. Popovici,

Perhaps or maybe ?

I like pain age of me ,.
Why do you need love ?
Future is dark for me .
My path in life is alone ?
He is my history .
You let go of your dream ?
Like a life in death !
Do heaven felt your soul ?
Just like all is over .
Now I see the steps ?
Clouds go like cold sky !
Don't fight alone do you ?
Return your heart again.
As in a lonely breath ?!
Perhaps or maybe ?



- A. A. Popovici,

Road of writing ,,,.

Writing is my lover, dreaming alone . I write, so I can not forget my loneliness road in life ! Your own fashion, write all you feel ? Mood is just you, art is yourself ?. When your life is reading books all day !. Do you know what's gonna happen if you love to much the books,  you will wake up and they will make your dream come true someday ?! I want to be there where the books are and dream of magic !!! Did you feel the pain of books ? When the pain is so big I write and give everythig that I have in me ! I can not show you my true feelings because I like to play with words . Poetry of a season isn't a happiness if you don't dream it ! It was yesterday about a book that will be my only true lover friend! When you don't have ideas,  you make them with what you have like the art that is inside you ! Writing is all that a writer can have sometimes in life ! I write because that's the real me, just the way I am . Writing is joy and sadness to ...but , Words are not …