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■ I know what you're thinking, father
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FLOWERS OF DECEIT
The heavy rain knows no reason Why it should bring unhappiness Along – It simply comes down in oceans of despair, Oceans that, on their way to their final destination, The old, chilly grave of timeless soil, Sip, within a single glance of thunder, All there was left for us to live for. The windows grieve – The north wind groans with hunger… The walls are blind and wrinkled… Abandoned frightened strangers Inside a cave of horror, The sealed doors preserve in their belief The ultimate sensations. The flowers in the corner window – What is their meaning now? What are they doing here still, So shapeless and so old? Dry reincarnations of the evil nights’ deceit, The bleak days’ shredded infants, Are they all there has been left To be held by the eye’s conception? The tides keep changing, Generating inevitable disorders – Incontrollable madness… The celestial caves look abandoned and deserted And the only sound there is to be heard Is the hopeless cry Of the backwards running streams That, on their way back to their long-forgotten origin, Wash away the last traces of a rainbow of dreams. And yet, the stains of blood on the clouds’ shrouds remain Like wild roses that preserve their bodies forever Unbleached… ~ SORANA ~ Copyrighted © Sorana Salomeia, Iasi, Romania
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