agonia english v3 |
Agonia.Net | Policy | Mission | Contact | Participate | ||||
Article Communities Contest Essay Multimedia Personals Poetry Press Prose _QUOTE Screenplay Special | ||||||
|
||||||
agonia Recommended Reading
■ Escapism
Romanian Spell-Checker Contact |
- - -
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2005-10-13 | | Submited by Edilberto González Trejos
In the white room with black curtains near the station.
Blackroof country, no gold pavements, tired starlings. Silver horses ran down moonbeams in your dark eyes. Dawnlight smiles on you leaving, my contentment. I’ll wait in this place where the sun never shines; Wait in this place where the shadows run from themselves. You said no strings could secure you at the station. Platform ticket, restless diesels, goodbye windows. I walked into such a sad time at the station. As I walked out, felt my own need just beginning. I’ll wait in the queue when the trains come back; Lie with you where the shadows run from themselves. At the party she was kindness in the hard crowd. Consolation for the old wound now forgotten. Yellow tigers crouched in jungles in her dark eyes. She’s just dressing, goodbye windows, tired starlings. I’ll sleep in this place with the lonely crowd; Lie in the dark where the shadows run from themselves.
|
||||||||
Home of Literature, Poetry and Culture. Write and enjoy articles, essays, prose, classic poetry and contests. | |||||||||
Reproduction of any materials without our permission is strictly prohibited.
Copyright 1999-2003. Agonia.Net
E-mail | Privacy and publication policy