joi, 17 mai 2012

Handsome burden

the present reminds me of the past
in such a way that I wish
to cry my happiness away
in streams of undiluted pain
and exaltation;
life's allure binds me to myself
and my weaknesses,
my love for perdition and grace,
temptation and lies,
unrequited dreams and fears-
am I truly made of a fabric
more fitting for a deceased
than a king?
release me,fleeting passion,
impotence of the blood and
drug for the mind!
no more elegance,
no more divine contortions of the soul,
no more adoration!
I shall dwell in the heart of decrepitude,
feast upon cadavers
that leave my everything numb!
no more palpitations!
no more trembling arms!
no more lust!
solely platitude and naked eyes.
I am the master of my own damnation
and I wish for it to be dull!

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