Mensagens
winds of Fedra,
in rage
whistling
through a somber stage
we stare
through her ethereal visions,
the past will now asunder
with fair devilish precision
from where our human fragility
crumbled
and humbled us
to ease
an unholy litany
the only sound in the air
breathes in our spirits, invisible and fair
muttering
through savage's homes
and underground passages
into a shelter made of dry bones
we leave the offerings
to praise
homewards, where this thirst still burns
envoys from beyond
deny us nothing
nothing is more
than sand
slipping through
my hand
since
i saw you around
a heart attack , a glass house
were the hurt and rust is kept
feed the flow
of the soundscapes
in mighty landscapes
to astound
the merry priests
in timeless images of their feasts
a rite of alchemists
to evoke her solemnly
into us
a map of souls
written in ancient scrolls
large scrolls that we recite
as we traversed through the halls
-to where all queens once dwell
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