Last minute decisions
over something deep
not planned for a decent future

we’re floating on the surface
of the matter without seeing
the abyss coming after us
everything’s going fast

too fast to have the time for waiting
and hearing the dashing voices
beside us
they’re ants swarming in and out
of their anthill
haunted by the noise of a domestic loneliness

while a question is whirling in our head…

Is it the meaning of life or its lampoon?

Stones
lines of stones one after another
wraiths are passing
through them
they were warriors of the ancient ages
they walked on the path
where the treason was a sharp blade

they fought and died twice
under the white citadel
for the honour they let rot
into a mouldy cave.

Sleepwalkers are following
the thin rope tethered to the ancient regime’s stone
they are going on a path paved of ludicrous storytellings
they’re passing through the cliff of illusion
while the deceiver plays his fiddle
its egregious sound twists their thoughts

beyond the illusion
there’s the awakening of the wonders.

A box full of lies between me and you
melted into
interrupted phone calls
mistaken feelings
are sat beside the regrets
on a bench of frustated dreams
they’re crossing the path
through our disarray
a ghost hugs the darkness
of our thoughts.