Reflection, cold fluidity mixed with sorrow,
No warmth could achieve the dead,
Only an ethereal spirit wane,
From living within shadows,
Painted on solid white walls,
Sacrifice the colour, add some hue,
Watch it all reflect back to you.
Dissection, breaking apart memories,
Laying them out onto panes of glass,
As tears meander down pale slopes,
Forming tiny rivulets on the ground,
Cascading down reeds of grass,
Only green beauty may bless your heart,
Let's take it back to the start.
Resurrection, bringing back days of old,
Crinkled textured canvas on black,
Deepened abyss shown bright,
Against the dancing shadows in the winds
Of time strewn by pearl necklaces,
And beads of crystalline gaze,
Into a void where life is a haze.
Confession, a secret told on a bed of lies,
From a serpent's forked tongue,
Spitting red vile mist over your fermented body,
Leaving a fortitude of cries echoing
Through these darkened recesses
Of a sinister mind vowing revenge,
Over the kindred powers avenged.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Welcome indeed! linda