Broken mirrors crush me under deceptive appearances
Broken mirrors crush me under deceptive appearances,
mutilated wisdom whistles hesitantly,
the heron gropes, flying through fragile fantasies and follies lost in the penumbra
Penumbra that pulses,
words flow like a black river rolling shadows,
Shadows that gaze at me with empty eyes,
routine breaks my shattered steps,
meaning seeps away,
I wonder if the murmur is worth it
The gloomy murmur of the moment hides a strange beauty,
the sky cracks with lead weeping liquid silver,
bitter drops burn my skin,
wounds sprout like lost roots from trees fallen in silence
Silence that presses,
nostalgia is the ash singing of a extinguished fire,
the obsession with time pours a cold blind eternity,
eternity that crushes weak dreams,
the moment captures and absorbs everything like a sea chewing shadows
Shadows of lost ships melt into viscous waves,
echoes fall silent under the broken sky,
meaning whispers a concocted story,
Story that bites,
silent screams vibrate under my skin,
broken light rocks me gently
Gently I float through the mist, the walls breathe silence,
shadows dance on dusty and cracked floors,
Cracked like the soul,
the dry leaf glides on a nameless lost river,
melancholy caresses a thin veil between longing and oblivion
Oblivion that calls me,
the abyss growls a strange peace,
the black moon grins in the sleeping waters,
Sleeping waters whisper,
thoughts break like scattered threads,
the sky crushes the moment,
The moment crushes meaning, water runs far
Far flies the heron buzzing over the mist,
words merge with winding shadows,
routine gnaws at cold roots,
eternity sleeps under the dull shining slab,
the dull shining slab calls me in a dream
Copyright ©
Dan Enache
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