Lilium

Occasus

My melodies followed the edge of the gloomy nights, with a whisper that, together with two static stars that looked towards my weak and tired heart, imbibed me in an ancient sadness. Suddenly, one day lost in the forgotten calendars, in the dreamlike light of sunset, a slight sudden blow I heard, as if someone had knocked the window of my room.

"Kristen ..." I said mumbling, out of my fiery fantasies.

I opened my peepers and I was able to see it: a crow standing outside my apartment, here, where the light creeps.

"Messenger" I said. "Are you bringing back the hopes that abandoned me, like everything that I loved?"

The raven did not utter a word, but managed to extract a smile from my sad fantasies. Feeling the warmth of his innocent gaze, I approached him to feel his presence, his just soul, more clearly.

"You, entrusted one" I called again. "You are wondering about what you are, but I know for what you have come from that crimson horizon. Tell me what conceived your assignment has been."

But the bird, thrown by the coming storm, began its flight; He was going to go with Kristen, or he wanted to take me with her.

***
Torned out legs and arms, desperated breath for rest, prisoner of my obsession with that crow. I arrived to a forest of the dead at I don't know what time, all that was was the monotonous and eternal ringing of the wind against the trees; but obsession is the rider of the horse of cups who hunts achievement. The crow had finally stopped its flight, and I came out from among the trees to an empty place of mystical antiquity. The ground was covered by ancient rock and, surrounded by trees, there was an entrance to a beautiful lake of emerald waters opened thanks to templar runic rocks. I was terrified.

"It's your fault" the bird told me suddenly, who attracted the others with his aura.

"You did it," said another crow.

I shuddered, pondering at his words, hundreds of crows were surrounding me as I covered my eyes to stop the tears and rested my knees on the rock.

Suddenly, nothing. Crows were gone and the strong storm had stopped; the world had stopped.

"Yes, it was me!" I screamed into the immortal silence, which burned to the bottom of my heart. The air grew more tense. "Miserable! Stop this judgment of remembrance! Hurry the end of your existence and let my sorrow die by its own flame!"

And the silence, ancestor of the whole, responded with its music, music that pierced my ears and took my soul around the neck as the executioner of the world.

"Miserable, entity of evil!" I shouted, "Be you angel or demon or the very entity that looks at us, throwing me through the storm at this mystical place, leave my existence by that sky that curves and covers us, rip this memory from my heart and let me die by my own flame!"

Then, the water, immediately and perched by the tintel of the moon, began to stir like a dancer on itself, bringing her spirit closer to the shore. A clear song raised. Lilies are growing.

"You pretentious witch! What have you believed, nameless entity, stagnant aura, that you threaten to sink to my pain, poor green rancor? Kill me if you want, servant of the fire, but your dagger will never enjoy the kindly foam from heaven!"

As soon as my words were revealed, the memory of evil could not be excluded. The heaviness of the atmosphere woke up all sense and, as soon as I fell like a dead weight before the depression of my flames, the waters revealed its glory, turning its face towards the glow of another world.

Soon I came out of my hysteria and I could understand it, I could see and feel what the emerald aura of the water told me: each flame goes out, each flame gets extinguished.

The perfume of the lilies darkens the brown glints of the escaped water, there is no time left.

Oh, my dear. Oh, my beloved one ... soon this unreal sadness, this burned sorrow, will soon reach a lukewarm end. The pains and renunciations will flee from the shadow at the time when the soul of the lake calls me with its gaze, mystical, white, incorporeal.

And soon, when I venture into the cadences of the other world, soon the world will be able to identify my graphs and understand what a thousand souls will never have understood.

Fine