I gaze into the mirror of my empty space,
The banquet of my truths has fallen from its grace.
A hidden, silent voice beneath the stage's floor,
An icy arrow pierces what I knew before.
Like a wandering soldier in a dead, deserted town,
I watch my old illusions tumbling slowly down.
The very laws of nature flow within my veins,
A cheap and hollow role is all that now remains.
This is my exogenesis, the stripping of my soul,
A slow and fading breath to make the broken whole.
I'll cut the puppet strings that hold me to the stage,
And let the sharpest blades erase this hollow cage!
I turn away from shows, from false pretenses made,
I choose an inner death before the colors fade...
So let the ancient world burn down to dust and ash,
And turn my heavy earth into a starlight flash.
I walk the maze alone through memories left bare,
Where hungry wolves are hunting in the heavy air.
The golden serpent came and stole my childhood spark,
Its heavy, toxic skin encloses in the dark.
My royal blood runs blue, a split and broken heart,
Where swan and raven fight to tear my world apart.
I'm haunted by the love that kills me with its pain,
Drowned in the desperate pleas of an acidic rain.
Dies iræ ! Now the day of wrath begins to grow!
We slice the surgical knot of all the past we know!
Is this the only way to silence my own cry?
I beg to find a breach beneath a heavy sky.
So let the church bells toll! Let the old king fall!
I paint my broken frame upon the ruined wall.
The end is drawing near, my doubts begin to break,
I leap into the void to keep my soul awake!
The corpse of my illusions breathes beneath the stone,
The sea has fallen silent, the twilight stands alone.
I do not understand the ghost I was before,
My heart is made of rock, but clear is now the shore.
The flowers of the dark have withered in the cold,
A new and better bloom is waiting to unfold.
The grieving soul at last has found its final chord...
I merge into the dark and drop my silver sword.
Dream, little prince, dream
YOU ARE READING
Strange Days - Collection of Poems
Poesia⭕️ Recueil de poèmes en anglais✏️ For a considerable duration, I've dedicated myself to crafting an array of poetry and songs, often intertwining the two. The allure of poetry lies in its melodic potential, a quality absent in what some might label...
