Words become strange creatures
Swirling through my head
In the black night
As I’m thinking about
Some unidentifiable flying object of despair,
A lonely maiden with soft hair
And wings like a bird
Always in the motion of departure.
I’m lost to reality and walk through fantasy
When her bracelets smell like perfume
And she mouths my name
And leaves a flower in my room.
Our life is a single day
Where we wake in our mother’s arms;
And as the clock keeps time,
We journey through several stages
Until hours after dusk
We close our eyes in the grave.
And throughout my single day,
A girl I love escapes,
And I dream of reincarnation.
Your resplendent image work here elicits a many human sense....as i can feel, smell & taste this creation in its own capturing breeze....Nice Work, Uriah. ~ FjR ~
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
'bracelets smell like perfume' stuck with me