I come, but I know that
the poem's silence is stronger.
I find enough shade within myself
to share my light
with the silent ones.

I am here, although blissful peace
imitates my soul.
My heart does not fit on the world's plan -
I wait for freedom
to dissolve in my blood.

Imprisoned in my own mind,
I want to feel in you a remnant
of the universe,
a bit of forgotten humanity.

The night, freed from the stars,
is now just an excuse.
A protest that is hard
to admit.
Your exhausted kisses shimmer
on the thin skin of your wrists;
twilight is a sentence
from which you cannot escape.

Eternity makes tears sink under
the eyelid of sleep.
No, nothing else matters
except the past that remains to us.

One day I will understand
that sometimes a tear is enough
to start a new autobiography.
My passion
becomes a curse.

I try to awaken in myself such a night
that will not be
a preface to tomorrow.
I want to look at you in the mirror
of longing - all tears will bloom
to yield forbidden fruit.

I know.
The silence will be unfathomable
when the ballad falls silent.
Pain will leave us silence,
unprepared for the journey,
at the mercy of the local
conflagration.

Burnt cities.
The horizon robbed of planets.
Before a raw flame of hope
germinates in me - desires will be poor,
even worse nostalgia,
which once descended to hell.

I will create for you a fertile,
still sleepless world;
everything that has been so far
will transform into a crocheted heart,
conceived by
your tired hands.

There will be no more God, nor man.
Not a single scream will survive.
I will not remember the moment
that became a burden insufficient
to betray loneliness.

The last season of the year will pass.
Future will crave the warmth
of the winter sky.

My first winter thought ends
with a body in which one
can lose oneself.
A heartbeat, a firstborn smile
are unforgettable - everything is an illusion;
its shadow trails behind me
on this poor journey.

I would like to end with a wind
that can carry away wasted tears,
bitten desires,
mismatched silence.

As I follow, I keep an eye out
for fresh traces of tenderness;
too large a dose may prove fatal.
And hatred breeds
as if the Earth were its own.

It boasts of a roadside lie,
a deaf-mute guilt, a sold-out faith.
Your world does not love me -
deceiving life, I give it the name
of loneliness.

I have been abandoned
at the crossroads again - God, will you
remember me when it turns out
that your blood flows in my veins?

I'm coming back, even though light
finds this different horizon.
I am here, although life
sold me at a bargain price.

I see no signes of tears,
I do not know where their shadows
have gone.

I sway on this black wave
of existence, I seek solace
in the scent of hope.

I do not want to look for flaws
of future. There's a wind
blowing inside me
that can't be satisfied with
one maudlin sigh, one lost look.

In love with your past, I am trying
to wake you up from
this long sleep.
I flee from my own loneliness.
I dedicate this farewell to you,
so that you may understand
how much silence is needed to
soothe the sky,
to placate the earth.

The sentence here is unfortunate -
reflections of love
no longer bring remorse.
I slam the door to heaven again.
I open the window to hell.

Let's talk about the silence
that tries to overcome the pain.
Let's try to tame freedom
so that peace
can take its place.

Let's not close
the last window behind us - a body
that is slowly dying
is a great excuse to give up.

I carefully count
your freshest tears - I know they exist
only to quench your longing.
Entrusted to the wrong sky,
I rock in the embrace
of the earth, close to fulfillment.

I don't want to replace
paradise for you - I will return
before the final blow falls
asleep in me.

The fist of your heart leaves
saturated shapes,
thoughts without their own words.
I leave time far behind.
I am leaving an eternity
for which there is no point
in starting another day.

Please, defeat the silence in me
that does not allow me to love.
Free me from faith;
for it I can give my life
into good hands.

Covered with black breath,
I beg for a sip
of the past,
for one poor sip of comfort.

It is there
Under the splendid sun unwathered
The moon lights Kindle and rekindle
Under the stars stuck in repentance
Unlike their perpetuality
It is there
The urge to redraw myself
Into the reflection of others perfection
To be spun in accordance to what lies behind those shallow eyes
My complexity beyond compare
Not sincere
Am I the art or the painter?
Because I destroy myself so beautifully
A symphony sung and unsung all at once
Broken cords that heal themselves whole

Admonished to partake,
This world I forsake,
And chirp over their cries,
For it's befit to realise,
Everything is bound to cease,
For none is there a release,
Dogma prevails over a soil to which tomorrow has no avail,
magnanimity subdued,
For our ******* ways has us all induced,
The way of life we have confused,
Authority is misused,
Enchant Misdemeanor craze,
Endeavour to earn,
Alas,
A salvation remains unlearnt,
Sea of hypocrisy and blood left awake,
A whim has lead me askew,
To simmer no hope,
To wilt In no lies,
To not be loved to conjure in a hearty demise,
"The earth is a blemished mess",
The sun sings to the skies,
Stuck in repentance the stars nod,
Bitterness espouses,
As i unearth in my creed,
A fabulous truth,
To which man pays no heed.

I'm afraid of failure
Of becoming a burden
But above all, I'm afraid
Of hurting the ones I love
And ending up alone...

Yet I'm here, I've shown
In the face of my demons
And screamed at them
That they'll never take
The very best of me

So I may not be fearless
I'm quite fine with that
For I'm brave