Stigmata of passion and burlesque masks
whose features will flow into the mineral ocean .
Wolfang composes in a palace full of swarming spiders
weaving webs in hours of humid fever .
A shape wrapped in an obscure softness knocks on his door
a hand holding out a parchment , secret messenger of destiny.
Master , here's the requiem verdict ,lines to engrave until the last ink
The humble candles beg before they die
at the last note falls the feather
the stripped body no longer feels the cold ...
Wolfgang under a driving rain ,musical fog for a flight,
a carriage will bring you to the light ,
your entrails thrown into the common spirit
where genius, metamorphoses into decomposed particles
of the immortal sublime ...
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Author:
lorenz (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: May 7th, 2024 09:05
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 20
- Users favorite of this poem: aDarkerMind
Offline)
Comments3
Very impressive!
He once said he was writing "Requiem" for himself.
Requiem for the universal !
impressive and beyond Lorenz
Unfathomable threshold ...
They that sow in tears shall reap in joy.
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