my felicity a spectacle,
in the autumn of silence.
If permited I would have told you.
Liberated from the dungeons of time, if,
I would have whispered to you -
the truth of apocryphal truths.
Desire for freedom;
Freedom from agony
is a confession of time;
intricate words in intricate fashion -
rehersed and memorized!
But let it be -
Let it linger some more,
and the dew which is wrapped
beneath the eyelids change color,
for dry-red stains are forever.
2 comments:
this is definately a beautiful poem. but i still think that a little more simplicity wou make it more beauticukl,, like less aprocryphal truth and more raw desire.
you are such a simpleton! ;)
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