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These dew drops dream of sundays in May
when white ships of mist are sailing in with hopes
Awareness keeps us together and this might be the day
we start to look, rather than to just make notes;

That the dew let drops carries the divine light
making waves of forgiveness – and of regret
And the first wave of love make us fight
leaving the meadows behind and we all forget;

That when an angel on a battlefield dies
– everytime a hero surrenders and cries
when the fire dies and hope begins to fade
embers will light up and show us the way;

– back to the meadows where we used to be free
Back to our green waves, our place, our sanctuary
This is the divine dew drops shivering dreams
this is what it means to be our own deities

Β© Sirenia 2012

Photo Β© Stelios

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