The Universe
tonight
is gigamethyst (*)
quilt
with yellow topazes.
Love is a fata morgana,
a remote star,
a liquid illusion.
But you, though,
Heavenly Mother,
motherly,
loving,
please, behold my tears.
Do not forget
the barren heath of sorrow.
Somebody has inlaid my life
with bitter passions,
with rorid dewdrops,
like that of a sad puppet,
melancholy lover.
Fate has hurled
burning arrows from the sky,
avoiding ever giving
breaths of damp stillness.
The days, with ups and downs,
they slip away.
Two parallel lines
impatient.
The utopia of meeting.
The pain sprouts,
like a rose of salt.
Grief,
like a piercing prism,
it wedges rhizomes
into the soul.
Vespers becomes evanescent,
a hyaline stream,
and irrigates the nocturnal organzas of the sky.
***
big amethyst (*) = Big amethyst
Greek prefix: γßγας (ghìgas, giant)
All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Mauro Montacchiesi.
Published on e-Stories.org on 09/22/2014.
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