interconnections (this empty house)
high textures of departure
in solace
for the prisoners of a soul
in this hallowed room
a palpable emptiness
still weaves a curse,
we're alone
and in mourn
we talk
with the departed one's voice,
which still lingers on
like some imaginary friend
slowly whispering
through a late night vigil
to reach us again
silent reaper
came here to reveal
new strange universal
forms of rapture
a past
now retrieved
in reveries
through the splendor darn
the interconnection
that settles our stories
acknowledges future glories
hooded as the boatman, humbled at the shores
across a wild riled river stream
hence drift
'till a change of swift
his will to preach, would take us through
utopic waterfalls
our arbitrary lines 'till reach
the dry land of the Cyclades
where fortune ladies tell us tales,
that only they could knew or abide
in vows
which they renew everyday
as a sacrifice
to the abyss
~ tales of azure oceans
and it's bleaking nights
of horrors
Sem comentários:
Enviar um comentário