sexta-feira, 20 de outubro de 2017

Ontology

Song of black dress
trailing through the leaves, dead
clinged on every other thread
in seek for a mistress.

Song of heady scent
carried out by the wind
daring once to be so kind
as to take me where it went.

By all Means I followed
the trail, the songs, the voices,
unveiled misteries and choices
and saw Beauty worshipped

Like never, before my eyes -
faith I thought forgotten
burned in ages rotten
myth of gods that fall to never again rise.

16/08/2017

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