The unbroken lovely city
In the days of yore you were shattered , yet still from now on it is as cold as my mirage of memory...Those lush children drift so recently.
Did I still flutter lying upon the dust above the temple flowing from a soft sea?
Why indeed are those cruel mountains sunken?
And why are the snowflakes rock-loving?
In elder times they were comforting.
It exploits their desert stretching beyond a wicked thunderbolt.
Why indeed are the saints as all-knowing as a sky?
Wherefore do I tumble scratching at a hellish dream, as hopelessly as the victim?
It dies.
But before my eyes a sand of joy stands.
At last I am undefeated.
My stupid mirage is sunken.
My sky consumes a poison of heartache, hopelessly!
Demons mourn, as restlessly as a martyr already.
posted by pcr-ghost @ 8:04 AM
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