Autumn has never been more beautiful as now
the grain of rain weeps on the leaf - -
the heart, painted poem of God
hangs in the chess of life
...
- British -Romanian Writer, Classicist, Freelance Journalist, Artist. Book: Fly, Madness, Fly! The Convoy of The Lambs. Flying with Memories etc.)
Identity
by Lucia Daramus
I am in the dark
the death pushes me
the light is in my soul
Who will see it?
I play of life and death
the trees claws bite me
do not cry when I die
I play of Sylvia Plath
I am Sylvia Plath.
I live in a continue numbness
I enter in my mind like a lioness
I torn myself on the inside
I hurt myself, I do not know to cry
I will soon die, soon
I play of Sylvia Plath
I am Sylvia Plath.