When you come back
I will wake up in another garden .
Long is the journey .
You will arrive late,
you who come from a star ...
And you will gaze upon my face
bathed in moonlight .
Have I ever existed ,only in this
polar testimony ?
I was then merely the avatar
of a dark double aborted
by the curse of an inspired source
lost in a tear of time
No longer recognizing days and nights
and seasons of midlight ...
Condemned to the echo of myself
bound to the rock of suffering ,
a greedy bird of prey feeding
on my words ...
Wandering mind forging symbols
in the ritual of nothingness ...
Be aware of this :
The purpose of poetry
is not to dream of a desire for elsewhere
but in the truth of a blade that tears !
I was that navigator at the helm
of a web browser ,drifting toward
the breakwaters of torment ...
Poetry,you were that wicked stepmother
I refused and forced me to love her !
Here is my testament of unbearable emptiness ...
Poetry, you leave me alone in the scent
of this poisonous flower ...
Indecent mistress and delight of distress
whose embrace I know the bitter ...
-
Author:
lorenz (Pseudonym) (
Online) - Published: September 29th, 2025 10:30
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 11
- Users favorite of this poem: Ellen Marsell
Online)
Comments2
A mesmerizing portrait of an artist, wounded by his own gift.
This cursed petry haunts me day and night ! Will it pursue me into the afterlife ?
This approaches a soliloquy and is certainly reflective in nature. Thought provoking
The individual is alone ,lost in the sea of aesthetics and the shore of ethics ...
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