Woe
The persistent of death invited me many times,
it was like sweet invisible mist, suggesting
passages and fake structures of beautiful
sights. I becoming so vain, giving life to
death, never knew where it begin, A wreck
of inevitable escape, the overwhelming
meadows to cross in pass, the shroud ready
spread, on fields of stone and cultivated land.
To attain through wind and waves, to the higher
of deep desires in my heart, of the vast sea of
death coming through, maybe in a hum coming
slowly beneath the walls in through my kitchen
sink or coming in forms of light. Not even the
cold howling of wolves can measure the
shivers to my soul. A slow call whisper while
i sleep, and waking my brain from a restful
state, yes is the evil in the air calling, invading
my house, i declaring and pushing him out,
I could not think of beautiful things,
like intoxicating sense of blossom peach or
fragments of delight snowdrift, like snow cones
of cherries and vanilla flavor. All these false life's,
coming in all directions, and resurrections roaming
in my door. I keep crossing meadows of stones,
year by year, and growing old, wishing to find a
wide estuaries that takes me to immense rivers,
for i swim across, little by little finding new land,
waiting for my drifted soul, reaching for healing
of my deadly flesh, not really dead, but wanting to be,
because flesh is not really alive but dead from sin,
by the darkness that follows every step
of the way, trying to murder the good spirit in me.
poem by Elenushka Toledo
Added by Poetry Lover
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