Balls of wool in the Hamper

     Balls of wool in the Hamper

And I seemed to know all the Ill,

but there's always one more pill

to swallow: and still doom's hollow. 

It tastes bitter and isn't for better, 

It tastes like life when you've been 

pelted with matters. 

Unexpectedly sinking, when your feet are on the ground. 

Unexpectedly struck by the ice you have found. 

Tell me to dwell the exile far beyond the borders! 

Tell me like a spell to follow all of your orders! 

Days add the absolute trust 

that won't ever be any tryst. 

Words from the cult of mist 

are rare like details of past. 

Weaving of human beings' destinies constantly takes place: 

notwithstanding, some balls of wool will lay unused in the hamper. 

Giuseppe Circiello