The Mourning Of My Soul Poem by Jesus e Loreto jr

It is the mourning of my soul that roars in longing for you, because it misses you so deeply, walking arm in arm with my holy spirit, which loves you so dearly and, refusing to surrender, still cries out for you.

Just thinking of your departure sends tears rolling down my face, and rage cries out in sorrow, unable to comfort that stubborn silence that has neither patience nor peace and speaks so much without telling me absolutely anything.

Only I can hear the fury of my soul in mourning in the deepest hours of my sorrowful nights, and it returns once again to the bed where I sleep with every new dawn, in the scant hours of my sorrowful mornings.

Living in constant companionship with this mighty pain that remains whole in the deepest part of my heart.

Burgundy and red are the stains you left painted all around me.

In a nest without a bird lives a lonely sparrow; every morning, dressed in mourning, it sings me songs of pure sorrow.

What sadness! How long the days without sunlight or warmth! What injustice, left without a single reason!

The days pass, the nights grow long, listening to music without dancing, with nothing but prayer, dying each night and being born again another day into the simple injustice that began with your departure.

ART IN THE DARK • 1

I stare at the clock in anger. The hours pass without hurry, and the furnace flame that burns my skin leaves my mouth on fire without a single word I wish to speak.

I cannot take it anymore. I feel myself biting into the anger that holds the fury within the mourning of my soul.

I grow weary sleeping inside a dream where I live awake, with tired eyes staring into the emptiness where our blessed love once lived happily.

Cursed day! Cursed betrayal that stole the very last drop of my happiness and tried to leave me with nothing but resentment!

There are days when I pray on my knees, days when I die of rage, biting into the hardness of the ground.

Without hunger, eating the bitterness of this damn pain, suddenly I erupt into violent chaos, forcefully inviting my own destruction.

And in a single moment I see the color of blackness; the sweet taste of your lips returns to me, where once you offered your honey.

I remember your kisses, your deep sighs, and every little mischief we shared, without doubt, without malice, without clothes, naked and playing skin against skin as daylight broke.

And then, smiling, I send you a kiss with the last breath of life I have remaining, hoping to find you somewhere in infinity once again.

I cry out to you with the entire voice of my soul, and send that voice to you with the wind upon the breeze.

My tired eyes still weep for you rivers and oceans of tears, swallowed by the thirst of this sad and barren desert.

There are days when I cannot go on. There are days when I cannot feel.

There are days when I walk through the loneliness of this vast and solitary torment.

I ask myself: Am I dreaming? Perhaps none of this is true. Perhaps I am the one who died.

But suddenly the pain strikes hard in the deepest part of this tender heart, swimming through blood in the shadows of your unexpected goodbye.

There are days when I smile and remember that April when I gave you everything I had.

And at the very same time I weep with fierce and living tears, because in that same April you left without saying goodbye, without asking permission.

You left nothing of yourself behind; you took everything that was mine, and though you did not love me, I went with you.

There stood my face, trembling with fear, in darkness and nakedness, without a blanket, without your warmth, in this damn winter filled with loneliness and so much cold.

This is the poem that prays to the mourning of my soul.

The faith that never loses hope, the faith that cherishes every little piece you left behind, asking for nothing more than what is right.

I offer you everything that belongs to me without worrying that I might remain alone and forgotten.

This will be the last thing I tell you with the final goodbye of my breath:

Even if I die without air, without water, I give you my life completely and, with it, this final kiss.

And I ask the Creator, that Great Architect, to carry it to your lips and resurrect what has died within you.

And to give wings to the sparrow so that, flying once more, it may sing its joyful song with the wind, so that we may both rest in peace and not die within the memories of our yesterdays.

I bow, and on my knees I ask God to bring stillness and peace to this mourning of my soul, which will always love you:

Today, yesterday, tomorrow, and forever, in violent chaos and also in the sacred time of calm.

This is the mourning of my soul.