Away! Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

the clouds sail in the
night
in part obliterate the
moon
already it shines low and
weak

oblivion's sweet in things
that we praise not
but desperation in our
things of praise.

the waters in my eyes they
leap
and light blinks dim.

blithe the Moth of Destiny
flies around the town
our ancient self Valletta
from balcony to balcony
from roof to roof
it flies
resting sometimes.

in the last night
adown the muddy stream
below the rows of buildings
screamed:
but in such silence
that none woke to see
the slime of Styx that
passed by in the stream
slow and engorging
as a lava flow
from red-hot Aetna.

nocturnal
without words but yet
with masks of yellow-green
around a cobwebbed table
gather we
in the centre spirits yield
white light
dark rest envelopes
again
the we is I, I,
Poet-Seer!