luni, 6 aprilie 2015

Visions of a good soul



Crimson skies pour lead Easter eggs from fuscous clouds,
Mists and fogs fight for whom will bring humanity under its shrouds…
The good departed soul awakes sinful from slumber at night,
Watching and peeking as dryads waltz burlesque in freight:
Tyrant and putrid housewives open the cryptic windows
Trying to find their one ring shackled husbands… and then to remain widows…

Ashy feet take walks of long and firm steps upon the chaotic sands,
Tired of their forsaken place in order to find new uncharted lands;
In shadows of suns and pierced by moons they rot and decay,
Grasping upon dark wings of ravens the immortal canvas of gray,
The angels of tantalizing fleshes, the addiction they flay –
The beer-maddened muses and nymphs which by tainted quill the good soul shall slay!