Far from the here of solitude
and the now of departure .
I leave this song of flesh and despair.
Nothing more than a caricature .
seeds in the field of dismorphic particules,
tragedy of once was ...
Dark relic to the after,dedicated .
In a dazzling light-years prodigy ,
galaxies trace infinite intelligence,the face...
about a few comets in a bit of a hurry
to get nowhere ,
I pick up a bouquet of frost flowers
to offer to the reflection smiling at me
in the mirror of illusions...
Shadowy remnant of an old story ,
burden I carry from soul to soul .
Strange feeling of being the chance
of so many others within oneself .
I am then nothing more than this utopia
in quest of a voice ?
And dreams just desires in the making ?
Fragmented echoes of a sweet madness
in the fleeting space -time ...
In this book which has neither prologue and epilogue ,
the mind opens it ,finding only the enigma of logos...