Lost like a shipwrecked man without destiny

Lost like a shipwrecked man without destiny,
stranded between the rocks,
and without waiting for any rescue.

That's how I've felt sometimes,
but deep inside,
I know that deep down I don't fear being lost, because ...
Is there not always some hope left?

The hope of meeting,
the hope of not knowing very well what to find,
but in the end find,
Find something beautiful to look at.

I am not afraid to be shipwrecked and not to be shipwrecked
then shipwreck is to have embarked,
and while there is a fresh breath to breathe,
I will be there to embark again.

I do not fear helplessness, nor lose the ship,
nor fall stiff in front of the thrusts.
I don't hate regret either,
although sometimes I sin of him,
And sometimes I just don't understand.

I may not find myself
but not for that reason I will never lose my love.
Maybe I want to throw it all down
but I won't, because I have memory
For the magic seconds.


Why regret when you can see a bird fly?
Is it not a pleasure to see freedom?
Isn't it a pleasure to see her there from the darkness itself?

Some feel envious,
but to envy the beauty of others is to spit in our own eyes,
I prefer to see,
I prefer to see even without knowing,
I'd rather let myself fall into the darkness that I already left
feeling lost is also,
It is also finding the coast again.

I will regret throwing a shout at dawn,
I will sigh trembling with uncertainty,
and I still crap over fear,
tomorrow the roses will bloom again,
tomorrow the earth will give wheat again,
tomorrow the rain will give way to a new sun,
Tomorrow I will meet and be a new me.

I will feel the breeze in the bad weather that welcomes me,
there is always a smile in a heart,
no matter how lost that heart is,
The smile always goes back inside.

Well, the sad thing is not to lose, but never to undertake.
The sad thing is not to get lost,
but lose hope of meeting.

It's not missing the sad thing,
The sad thing is not to love oneself in the lost.
And in the end we always meet,
And before our new light,
We smile again like fools
because maybe we are just fools,
maybe love is foolish
But I'll be the first fool
if despite being lost,
For loving, I see light in the dark.



Farewell of the boatman in love and hate

Fly from the hand of the moon

David Jungle Administrator
Passionate about psychology, poetry and fashion, David Jungle is founder and CEO of BRAVE JUNGLE. Being one of the brand's designers, author of most blog articles and coach of our courses. Author of the books: Awake Beauty, Flirt by WhatApp and We Live in Poetry.
follow me

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked with *