The Architecture Of The Soul - Superman - Poem by Bujar Plloshtani
The architecture of the soul - superman
Furious squall, autumn wind,
you and your shadowy drawing in nature
you dance in the sharp eyes of a superman.
With the autumn leaves, fantasy turns into emotion
and the kingdom of thoughts is the enlighten mind.
Feelings are brown and soft
in solitude they balance with poetry,
you can't challenge the experience, the emotion
it is a Baronial or Shelleynial earthquake.
The threads, dying twice with difficulty and struggle;
two strong and big angels needed
to tear apart the soul completely
because this soul dies hard.
Vast soul, you travel wherever
a whore or a virgin: you rule with intelligence like a tyrant
and in the end, when death will come by: you will die like a man.
You knit your crystal blanket
with the white color of the snow, changing...
the hidden place of the soul is shaped with baroc architecture
and the shape of the soul is called: superman.
None is afraid from your voice
because you are not a ruler of generations,
but a hero for the ones to come
you wake them up from the deep sleep of the seasons.
You poured sadness and strived
how much autumn leaves suffocated you?
But you conquered ice and frost
how much you bled! Anybody sow you bleeding?
You, blue and white soul
don't get frozen
give power to thoughts
lifeless in this cold vacuum
with the help of the sound of these verses.
Classic piano, you should play the best sonata
and bring again the autumn wind among us
with the architecture of the soul- Superman.
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