LINGERING INSOMNIA
by Sorana Lucia Salomeia


This is nothing but a dying moment…
We are the anguish and pain of its death
And its sad remembrance.
We are the waters that have flooded
These ancient plains,
We are the years of dust
And nights of insomnia.

Our hands, so weak and mere,
Cover our staring eyes –
Our nightmarish gaze –
The nightmare of that we inhabit itself.

The belated dusk is drawing near
With slow, lingering steps;
The wind is grinning
And screaming in despair,
Crushing our poor defenseless windows,
Biting the bricks of the collapsing walls,
Scratching their cracking paint…

Revealing this helpless grey reality,
This dull emptiness we inhabit, breathe and worship…

Copyrighted © Sorana Salomeia, Iasi, Romania