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LEFT IN THE POWER OF THE STORM
Drops the curtain off my stage
The mask is torn on the floor
Written tragedy on this page
Carver ink of my heart sore
Make up slowly fading
Conscience slowly fading
Real tears on the painted ones
Now I’ve lost my art
I’ll no more play my part
I am a failed one
On a kingly wormy chair
With a paper crown my care
Not a prayer not a swear
Rollin’ slowly through the air
In this bleakness lonely guess
How my home inside is mess
Ceiling fadin’ bodiless
Walls becomin’ boundless
Think I’m fadin’ away
No one will hear my cry
Feelin’ alone in this way
Should I live or die?
Nothin’ more could save my life
I’ve betrayed my love
And now, deep inside,
Me left in the power of the storm
Feel outside the cyclone ragin'
And inside the calm is drainin’
I’m not more at my loom weavin'
Only dirty long hair wearin’
Dont’t bear my home rotten wood
All mistakes and nothin’ good
Typhoon breaks this breathless hood
I’m dragged and swept away
Think I’m fadin’ away
No one will hear my cry
Feelin’ alone in this way
Should I live or die?
Love is over
DEBRIS...
Every now and then
I'm liable to a landslide
That never happens ...
If only it would come!
Instead I only feel
A smell of broken rocks,
Those never fallin',
And debris on my lips ...
Anyway,
Really what makes me mad
Is that this tragedy is
Undone, every time ...
But whenever it ends,
Here remains the sand,
And debris on my lips ...
Debris on my lips ...
I live like turned inside-out,
Now absorbin' from
My imaginary space ...
Not by senses anyhow!
But there's a landslide,
Never known, and it's
Wherever the air
Of my own thoughts
Blows, into this space,
And take debris
On my lips ...
So every now and then,
But always more often,
A landslide
Defines my outlines ...
And my most terrible fear
Is to see with eyes
That lean upon this real
Inside ...
Those debris on my lips ...
...A NEEDLE FELL
But now, hardly perceptible sounds
Become catastrophes ...
I really know me like walls
With an empty room inside ...
BROKEN GLASS
Dull red, humid tiles,
Undulated ground,
Whereon little they fall ...
Hundred, hundred,
Everywhere, scattered
Under all the furniture ...
This perimeter,
That is my own breath ...
Is a model of chalk,
Mufflin' the pain ...
Scattered everywhere,
Invisible new corners
In representin' me,
Dead nature,
All has lived
Only into the fall ...
And it's real only
The noise I don't perceive ...
This perimeter,
That is my own breath ...
Is a model of chalk,
Mufflin' the pain ...
FROM AN OPEN WINDOW
Glides away a veil
In oblivion ...
I cover me
With nightly seas ...
But, oh! Here is
A little, little
Paleness,
Though just enough
To light my skin
Of dim light ...
A passive beach, as I am,
Sweetly left in
A wavin' of shadows ...
As the waitin' on my lips
Has a taste of salt yes,
Of those seas ...
PAPER WORLD
Only silence here
Paper valley in crystal sphere
Never wind blows here ...
All absurdly still
Sun is pale, and cold, and ill
Time has no more will ...
Lord of puppets rules
With the magic wand he rules
Movin' all and all and all ...
In this paper land
Never rain, it soaks the sand
It would all melt the land ...
POND
My life without you
Is a life
With the memories
Of you ...
Rivers without streams,
Where are few
Laminar layers
Submersed ...
Nothin' that drags,
As I repeat
The same things,
Always ...
And water smells
Of you ...
For ever ...
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