Those Stories
I’d written -
moonlight shone through them,
as though
specters outlined the hues
without substance
when words came,
wearing forever an affable guise of
earthly bliss
Their delicious and blithe tones
lingering musically in the horizon-
how far away,
close to silence,
and yet; so very clear
and so they are,
the testimonials of immortal pain
amiable signs which survive
everything that was exquisite
remains, behind
their enduring celestial veil
and meanwhile,
my only solace exists
in resurrection of
memory, the aftertaste and reflection of
the body which had sinned, but the spirit
redeemed ..
I scribble these verses,
only to tear ‘em up,
throw the ramblings unread
into a fire
and yet, you never know..
as the blistered pages sparkle
dwindling into
the rosy cinders,
the spell might be broken,
and I may claim again –
the lost prose
that forfeited liberty,
and my failed genius..
I’d written -
moonlight shone through them,
as though
specters outlined the hues
without substance
when words came,
wearing forever an affable guise of
earthly bliss
Their delicious and blithe tones
lingering musically in the horizon-
how far away,
close to silence,
and yet; so very clear
and so they are,
the testimonials of immortal pain
amiable signs which survive
everything that was exquisite
remains, behind
their enduring celestial veil
and meanwhile,
my only solace exists
in resurrection of
memory, the aftertaste and reflection of
the body which had sinned, but the spirit
redeemed ..
I scribble these verses,
only to tear ‘em up,
throw the ramblings unread
into a fire
and yet, you never know..
as the blistered pages sparkle
dwindling into
the rosy cinders,
the spell might be broken,
and I may claim again –
the lost prose
that forfeited liberty,
and my failed genius..
