From the Pocket of a Dream
Poisoned by poetry, that is what is going on.
Unable to understand the reality
because of the years spent behind the curtains of solitude
surrounded with the silence.
The heart shut for feelings
so hard to be opened again.
terrified for being hurt one more time.
The poison of the words flows inside the veins
That is all, there is nothing else to expect
or hope for.
An utopia of wishes and promises,
the blindness for time.
cursed with this passionate longing for the answer,
for the truth,
it can not be in peace,
not any longer.
I am brave enough, I need it now
to be able to go on and fight
or let go forever
So hit me,
as my life has just done.
Right between the eyes.
© Eclipse 2008 – 2011
(image: Chopin’s grave statue at Pere Lachaise cemetery, Paris)