In the stranded hours of absolute emptiness, like in an eye of a cyclone,
he spent his nights erasing his memories of the day.
The only voice he remembers is of his own, so familiar yet so cold.
He made his days and demolished them himself.
The resonance of solitude had uprooted the memories of his conclaves,
he was serendipitous, drugs, lust and she.
Addiction left him secluded but she never let him die in peace,
Today he stands audacious, a little balmy but strong.
I have seen the saints pass by but the curse still prevails.
last night on my windowpane, time stopped still for one last time,
I found this tearjerker so divine.
All it meant was love to him, and that took so much time.
He moved on and spared his life, at a place he moved where the sun never shone and the sky was red.
The valley of death was a stroll away, a bright light sparked in a beautiful smile,
he turned around to look back at her and wanted to stay.
In his naïve ignorance he was, as he wondered of those pretty lips,
"The glance that gave him life again and a lady he can't forgive."
(.... to be continued)
