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sábado, 2 de dezembro de 2023

la bohème de l'adieu

 



vows are now complete

through those distant valleys 

they spoke utterly, about love and conceit

as we stripped


faith is like a ghost, paciently waiting in the alleys


Into the deep sea of faith 

Into the woods of wraith

the dead drink from the calice 

from which innocence 

once spilt 


is the allure of autumn, the passion's ark that sought him


blue moon broods over 

painting us a biblical spell, 

strapped in hunger

whrithing to us, the pale horse

of the phanton hearse


razor's delight, mercy's begiled 

deceive the belief, blindfold of mothers-eyed

i flew through a eternal sleep 

i raised hell at all satan's sons night, while siren's weep

down there, wretched men never yeld

hustling back from their angelic tribes 


climb the race

if you stand there too long, 

waiting the spurn

shadows can listen


memoirs

of another lost waltz

pounding at doors 

still through the night

while a gray of our shattered idols 

falls on us 

over sleep


a strange rhythm comes from within, 

instilles the beat

wherever it stands, 

mastering shadows 

under this peasant streets


our keeper, waits

in times before time 

in a leap, through a life of traded miseries


in demand, 

a storming substance

will break the molds


there about, 

where mysteries 

of the red sun still marvels


dignity frames, behind our walls

in their rooms, dreamcatchers 

and wrecked infant dolls 


she walks with me

our guile innocence is finally broken, 

all foreseen delusions 

now awoken


her touch is so gentle, 

so easy to be fond 

my dain remedy, 

in invisible bonds


c'est la bohème de l'adieu


my home girl

keeeps trying all her secret ideas 

for an ideal world

always reminding me

word by word

patiently and undone, 

all the things 

we should had said 

or done


it's her nature call 

always in a urge to kill 

or breed


after the flood, 

be my main stain 

be my new place to hide


within our liberation

a new constellation

will shape us the clouds 

will shape us the rooftops

getting us ready 

for some more stories 

from the gutter


- where all stray cats 

know their way home

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