Trapped of the resounding beginning.
Lost vibration in the dance of generations.
Child of the cosmic serpent
dissolving in the dust of passing centuries...
In love with girls from another metaverse
which leave a sepia in my soul ...
My hands wrinkled like ancient trees
begging for a kiss of bark
and the sap of my trunk
would embrace them ...
But they'll die in the warmth of a dream
and one of them will bear my mother ...
Yesterday's loving words ,
bitter diamonds oceans
to the princess ball ,
first date with sadness...
Blood of sliced flowers
thrown over fresh graves
of the fallen in the trench ,
among these radiant widows
my mother carries me within her sphere...
creature with yellowed face
who was loved in the garden of forever
by this hero in faded memory...
On this path of embers ,
destiny frozen in the bosom of amber,
no one will help me unravel
the lunar node enigma ...
Son of the silent Uroboros
who asks no question ,
doesn't give answers ,
feeding on its galactic flesh ,
I did not choose ...
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Author:
lorenz (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: April 9th, 2025 06:08
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 10
- Users favorite of this poem: Ellen Marsell
Offline)
Comments5
Hello,
You have depicted an original version of the ouroboros both as the symbol for hermetic alchemy and the archetype for individuation and the becoming of things matter and process. Perhaps birthing as creation from the womb of the universe or the cosmos. An intriguing poem and read! Greetings and blessings,
R
It's a truly fascinating myth that carries with it the mystery of (its non) creation !
A most wonderful reflection on the unending circle. Love and life from birth to death in transformation this poem is surrealistic in its presentation. Very nicely done my friend.
Thank you Soren I like the term ''unending circle'' Which musically reminds me the Ravel's bolero .
A powerful and profound poem about cosmic solitude and the eternal serpent ring into which fate is woven.
The impossible choice in the face of cosmic mechanical forces .
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