cellinic

Sleepless

So weighty to perceive that pain of reason -

The one that I am feeling deep inside -

Is just a version of the woeful season,

Where hollowness of “c’est la vie”’s derived.

 

I wile these moments in the dark, at daybreak,

The sleep loss pin is penetrating me.

So often feel the hugs of throb, and I tweak.

And cannot change for shadowy “may be”…

 

What’s bringing hope? Guitar reverberation.

I hope for what is destined to be saved.

These sounds are, as before, in navigation,

Like a magician’s words, they flow ahead.

 

Contain the Divine Principle reflection

A sample of the popular belief,

Instinctive. With eternity abstraction,

Arcane… And with a fond form at the berth.