miercuri, 10 octombrie 2018

Afterlife

In the farthest corner
of this never ending winter
lies a restless creature

a crippled being
with hollow eyes
and empty bones

a naked soul
chanting obscure poetry
in weeping voice

a softer heart
without shape
or shadow

who cries for sleep
and tries to float
above the cold
and bitter sky
like feathers,
leaves and
petals do

she dreams
to grow dandelions
and nurse blue clouds
until her death
is over







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