Architect of the words ,
chiseler of breath
beyond afterdeath .
Refiner of ghostly gold ,
illusionist at the edge of twilight ,
a mask that never rests...
Mind adrift in boisterous clouds ,
free from all tides ,
yet bound to the flesh
of an unreachable star ,
stranded in the doldrums of a blank page ,
spectral swirls turning around my messy desk ...
And there,glides too,that veiled enigma -whose visage
is the ash of every love I set aflame ...
- '' who are you ? ''
The voice asks me .
- '' I live somewhere inside ,
and I come from the world over there ! ''
I reply .
A wayfarer who betrayed his own soul .
Pilgrim upon his road of absolution .
Prophet of the craziest gospel .
-'' Why are you trampling on my ground ? ''
The trail asks me .
-'' I have lost myself in so many lives .
Please guide me to that chimeric meadow
of my first dawn ! ''
I reply .
Doctor Roland and mysterious Lorenz .
Healer and strangler ,
voiceless barker ,
lost in my neurotic journey ...
-
Author:
lorenz (Pseudonym) (
Online) - Published: October 4th, 2026 11:02
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 5

Online)
Comments2
neurotic but most enjoyable journey in this piece my friend
Lord ,forgive him his folly !
I too missed the road sign and have gone too far to turn back. Nicely done Lorenz it gives the feel of lost and turned around.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.