Epic echo...
I am not a dirt-cheap heart,
Neither For or God-saken,
But i just choose one art :
Fleeing Goody two-shoes ken...
Such self-styled chaste pair of eyes,
Always ironically,
No matter where sun rises,
Is the one bride i can see...
Endlessly the same blitz-whore,
If only i could go through,
I would not be anymore,
The pray of the blond voodoo...
_"Is, for me, somewhere, true bliss ?"
- Sometimes, by myself, i pray -
_"Lord, may i be rid of this,
And, no more, a runaway ?"
Day by day, i fight and wish :
Anew as Odysseus,
Lost in a homeric pitch,
Somehow sine Deus...
Though insane hope is still left,
I don't know even from where,
But of what i am bereft,
Who is, both, dream and nightmare...
Tenebrio (C), September 07, 2016, at 03H10 A.M. ...
