Mensagens
interconnections (this empty house)
high textures of departure
in solace
for prisoners of the soul
in this hallowed room
a palpable emptiness
still weaves a curse,
we're alone in this house
and we mourn
as we talk
with the departed one's voice,
he lingers on, still
like some imaginary friend
slowly whispering
through a late night vigil
to reach us
the silent reaper
came to reveal us
new strange universal
forms of rapture
in reveries
through the splendor darn
the interconnection
settles our stories
acknowledges future glories
hooded as the boatman, humbled waiting at the shores
across a wild riled river stream
hence drift
'till a change of swift
in his will to preach,we would take us through
utopic waterfalls
and 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
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