His dreary body
Trying to find new fears
But only colliding and merging
Into new shapes of himself.
He quivers. Profound eyes.
He gazes upon the stars
And finds nothing but ancient tales.
The nail cuts deeply into his lungs.
No more breath shall be whispered.
No more stories shall be told.
No more lyricism shall ever again be fulfilled!
For he now remains in silence.
The distant fading life
that once lived in a star.
All remains
still
as if he had ever
written
one forsaken
word
one small verse
or even a trace
a tear,
whatever!,
that would prove
his poetical
being.
The shadows
exist.
He is a shadow.
Deep
soul
fog
bitterness.
He is now a fetus
a lung cancer
a hair dresser
a kid running in the park
a bite
.
…… He is nowhere. And, just
for this moment, it does not matter. It simply, awkwardly, definitely, does not
matter.
Caio Bio Mello
29/12/2014
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