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Dec 2018
When I shall pass the threshold of non-life
I shall be swept away by a soothing confusion.
I shall be a tamer of souls, a fearless wife
who shall sleep in the shade of a blooming illusion.

When I shall close my eyes for the last time,
don't get sick with black sadness, if you please.
Think that there was a girl not committing a crime
by speaking tenderly to your heart, on her knees.

When I shall sleep my dreamless dream
I shall stop from everything, invaded by a chill.
You shall find broken lines of mine in a song-theme
about our hearts beating in unison, as a thrill.

Don't let yourself be overwhelmed by the pain
and the chaos that might install into your heart.
Sip eagerly the air that covers the silence in your reign,
for I know, one day we will give our lives a restart.

We shall continue then together our afterlife,
we shall be able to look through the truth.
The time of rinsing dreams will be sung by a fife,
for renewing our vows and regain our youth.

There shall then appear colourful stripes on the sky,
the world shall think they are shadows of the past.
Overwhelmed by delusions they shall say goodbye,
for we shall be reborn, this time our love shall last.
Irina BBota
Written by
Irina BBota  41/F/London
(41/F/London)   
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