Who are you young lady
in faded hues ?
bloom unchained to age past,
whose colors weep
as dawn renews ...
A ghost of beauty that could not last...
no sound escapes -a silent stifled scream
within a haunted frame...
A prisoner of dream .
Boundless space-held in icy lines
that intimate,yet timeless ,still confines...
Fever cast upon a shape unstilled
by a painter in quest of life ,
unsettling feeling .
formless dust that flowers ,
serene nothingness, longing
at the whims of the rainy seasons
whose ceaseless drops erode
the graven name...
Each passing passion ,letter fragment ,
until stone remembered not at all ...
In your sorrow's path ,
I tread toward you ,
where days of regrets ,my spirit chase...
the violins of court are stilled ,
no more shall we in dance thrilled ,
and every step ,memory in slow melody ,
unyielding melancholy...
Only the artist's hand can make immortality
anew awake .
I am the lover of your dead nature
in ash of illusions, cold and spread ...
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Author:
lorenz (Pseudonym) (
Online) - Published: September 19th, 2026 11:00
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 20
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett, Ellen Marsell, Tristan Robert Lange
Online)
Comments4
beautiful write
A tribute to the dead princess .
much enjoyed
I love this one Lorenz a definite fave my friend it speaks to me. Female Dorian Grey.
she's a Hungarian princess who stepped out of her painting to visit me in a dream .
What a privilege my grandchildren are half Hungarian
Egy érdekes kultúra !
That's how they keep their secrets I only speak English and Portuguese and understand Spanish
Time turns life into melancholic music.
I love bringing still deaths to life !
Lorenz, this brought to mind all those old portraits of people whose names have been lost. I’ve always found them fascinating and a little sad. Well done, my friend.🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Ash is the ultimate remnant of the flame.
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