An apparition arrived in the midst of nowhere
smelling like withered roses fallen on the autumn ground,
A hound’s bark afar, a poor man’s begging almost bare
His hands stretching to the sky as started to swear
In chains of misery, vanity and mortality he is bound
He alone? Not I? How ambitious
Happiness is true and not Fictitious?
Futile kisses, lying hopes, rigid rope around my neck
Snakelike serenity that ended up to ashes born by flares
Longed for walks amongst our ancient crumbling marbles
And waited, longed and seized my earthly color marvels
While painting this image of fullness transformed into a spec
Another sip of death. Drink it, it’s not that horrid
Take the chalice, bottom’s up, although it’s torrid
As hell it burns, as icy a heart can be, my little prince
The throne you have, by all means, no one can take
A tomb, quiet, nameless, where nothing is that fake
I alone? Forever? How degrading
Life exists or is just Death’s fading?
