Agatha Eliza

He had everything immortalized in a portrait;
angelic face, and golden hair, deep eyes
a gorgeous smile, but a heart that cries-
all he could trade for a moment of rapture.
...

I embraced the ruins of your life
both with my arms and closed eyes;
the perfect poet..the perfect man!
the perfect dreamer..the perfect one!
...

Walk on, with a glowing
lantern in your hand..
carry this hope,
after you remove the shackles
...

These silent and bitter tears fall unseen
forming a net, keeping the world
in its tightness
burning, giving birth to storms..
...

The bitter mercury of life is washed away

as the last hours of night are cast aside,
...

A blurry morning breaks in my heart
like a shy sun over a battlefield
after a long absence of light
and a carpet of leaves
...

This wild and troubled
spirit that animates
the flesh
defies the nothingness,
...

you, grieving heart, kissed again the frozen lips of solitude
raw realities descending the heavy clouds of lucidity
in moonlight night, I sink into your sacred embrace,
like a black pearl in the vast stoned infinity.
...

the queen steps in with the mourning
garb upon her face,
in such splendid crimson
gown, adorned in lace,
...

The Evening Star glides acros the sky,
and stops the grasping rain,
From the burdened shoulders of the Time
which bleach away the pain.
...

I have never loved someone like you,

until now.Shivered by the coldness
...

Hold me, never let go of me
never release me from your grip;
be the frozen darkness that
swallows the last drop of soul
...

In dreams, love lies free from

from all that perishes within me;
...

Never shall I ever pluck flowers
again from the Elysian Fields,
or water with my tears the roots
of ivory-like white daffodils,
...

My feelings borrow
their colours
from the dance of two
blazing feathers
...

A language is a river;
its body of water
goes far into the distance
unobserved,
...

Here we are..walking by clusters
of unfulfilled dreams,
with a heavy heart, empty arms
a face devoured by concerns.
...

Heart of the forest
fairies dancing by the fire
glow worms on the path
...

The blood still lingers on the fences
behind the black flags, the barricades..
tired fighters, mechanically breathing
in the cadence of the bullets
...

At night, the borders are shattered
like wooden fences, eroded by moths
unkindled, prepared to be forgotten
as when the guardians sleep tightly
...