You are the dream girl of the last days,
the flower that flies in the east wind
and lets her perfum in my mynd.
Princess of the moon! Everyone says
about the enchanted litlle lady,
the lovelyest of the fairies kind.
I know that is impossible to take her
from the sensual gold cage,
where she is doomed by destiny
and the magic power of the image
that the internet sells to its slaves.
I' not king, nor magician, or prince,
and my poems are poor to rescue
the princess that I dream to save.
Poetry is my due consolation.
Antonio Carlos Rocha
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