The Imagination

The golden chariots driven by the vixens, Carrying the condensed dreams once, Stayed near the pillows of the turtle human, Who want to lead double life, quite common, Arising through the clogged chimneys, Settled quietly on the carriage, funny, Bags of escaped thoughts and cruel words, Going around the green to reach the sender, Bouquets of blossoms, vibrant in make up, The smell is good and pleasant as the rational texts, The chariots are driven by the camels, lions and not the horses, Reflections are seen from every other angle, Refraction and conduction are conjugated in silence, The waiting of the souls in the website of the vacant, Space, clapping of the hearts and the lungs, May lead to the gasping for new ideas, When the silver chariots are driven in the sky, Everyone feels the happiness on their lips,