the cursed one

the cloudy sonata

on these nights,when the sky cries in a chaotic song,when the cold breeze caresses your face with an almost abrasive touch,it feels wrong to speak about it but it feels right to hear its marvelous hummimg,to hear its beautiful sonata of chaotic and outerly staggering tears washing both the barren and the plentiful,when your heart shatters,not questioning nor understanding,just listening; almost as if you can sense its pain,pain so strong that it fractures one's being,pain that is so gorgeous its addicting,how can a simple man take all of this beauty in and fully understand it without going insane,but sadly it stops,the tears stopped falling,but you miss it,you miss every each drop attuning and contributing to a painful yet charming harmonious melody that leaves you empty and fading in its mesmerizing yet tragic moment; now that the rain is gone,and the only thing that stayed were the tears,as only the sound of the static ,disturbing yet comforting at the same time,decided to accompany you,and the breeze,oh the breeze,how could i forget,the cold breeze that makes this skin i wear as a body cold while on the inside i feel evaporated and slowly fading away as if it was calling me,to the very end of the gravel path;yet regardless,i will go inside,go to my bed like every other day,and wake up questioning myself and questioning the reason of me waking up every day barely realizing that all of that i felt before,felt like...like a reality that doesnt materialise into itself ,and ill never be able to touch again;like the mist lucid dream a human can bother to have and an illusion missed by the dreamer; i shall never be sure where to place it,but for sure i will never forget it.

~S.A.D