Even the moon was wrong that night.
It has taken on shades of blood red.
A lone giant among insignificant specks.
The stars were brighter than usual.
Midnight.
The bloody quarter century is coming to an end.
The last such moon will lull me to sleep.
It will say a sweet good night.
It will bleed to dazzle again with its radiance.
And then, and then again, every minute will be new.
Every decision will be a milestone.
Moonwater will fill my insides,
will light me up like the brightest galaxy.
And I will never wait for your wishes again,
never again I will calculate.
I begin a new quarter century,
for me, not for you,
without you, but with a new me,
lost and found.
I remain like the universe, suspended in the abyss.
And so the story ends, or is it just beginning?
Do you think you got rid of me because you chose to ?
Well, I will always be that immortal particle of the cosmos,
the enchanted element that can always build something,
something that will destroy you.
YOU ARE READING
Section of Dead Times and Poets
PoetryThis small volume contains a collection of my life's wisdom, dilemmas, downfalls. All of this is related to the burden of youth, complicated human relationships, both friendship and love. In all this chaos there is some hope and solace. For more ope...
