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 still drink - from the calice 

from which innocence 

once spilt 

it's the allure of autumn, 

the passion's art that sought us

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 all mothers-eyed

i flew too long 

through an eternal sleep 

i raised hell 

at all satan's sons night, while siren's wept

down there, wretched men never yeld or slept

hustling back from their angelic tribes, the merry carry the clay

druids writing hands

they claim secrecy 

to all nightmares 

in order for you 

to celebrate your own bigamy

but if you stand there too long, 

waiting for the spurn

- all shadows will listen 

memoirs

from another lost waltz

pounding at doors 

still, through the night

while a gray of shattered idols 

falls on us over sleep

a strange rhythm 

comes from within, 

instilling the beat

wherever it stands, 

mastering all shadows 

between this peasant streets

our keeper, waits

in times before time 

in a leap, through lives of traded miseries

 

storming - to strip 

all our counsciousness 

to break the molds

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

all guile innocence 

is 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

keeps trying all her secret ideas 

for an ideal world 

calling within, 

she lives in the wispering morning

her cries 

were not of anguish

nor a scenery 

formed by lifeless motion 

pictures

her pictures 

her facial features 

a reminder to me

word by word

patiently and undone, 

all the things 

we should had said 

or done

it's her nature call 

calling again 

keep calling...

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