Auto-da-fé

I am dead and alive in the same time and sometimes...

Facing the flame of this black sun  that calls to me.

Driven from the scorched garden of childhood ,

I grew up in the realm of cold ,warming myself 

by a meager fire  made of mournful smiles ,

feeding the embers with memories  that will never exist...

 Poor scribbler who thought  he was loved ...

Am I nothing more than this  fragment of ash ,

stillborn in a waking  dream ?

 I saw so many stars fade away in the frozen 

stare of dawn ...

I would have longed for the embrace

of a twilight murdered in sensual agony...

Light travels without beginning or  return ,

leaving us encrypted  mysteries  

whose key lies beyond the last spark of passion...

Lady death always leaves her adress ,

never forgetting ,even if  often 

she postpones the appointment...

ans so ,I offer this poetic auto-da-fé  

to the vast void of  sublimated  madness ! 

  transcendent mind .

  Life restored to the body .

I would rise again like this bird with fiery eyes 

who fears not the blaze of appearances .

 Enlightenment within the burning soul ...