Monday, December 20, 2010

Compassion





cry, just,
and sleep,
in the tragic cradles,
White Bonds and Red Crosses
for the little children.


then,
the bonds wet of red,
the crosses drenched of light white,
we invent Melancholy,
to forget our birth, our Oath to Fear,
and to cry with the eyes, silently,
in tears and petals.

and yet we wander,
desperate for a path to get lost,
we yearn to Moons, to Dawns, to Twilights,
we grasp Omens trough the insomnia
and we whisper into the Howls.

cut the veins,
to merge our throbs
with the Nature,
our apocalyptic, ancestral urge
to find something to cry,
and then sleep forever.


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unevens by dario mambro is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribuzione - Non commerciale - Non opere derivate 3.0 Unported License.