Δευτέρα 15 Απριλίου 2013

The Evening Star

I want to talk to you now about the moon, about the evening star. In its shade, i hide in your footsteps, fleeing a minstrel's dismal song. A lemon slice of its heart i hold in my feast while i succumb to inertia. A pilgrm's boat, with a black cloth on its mast, sails to nowhere. Loaded with the ink of our love's demise.

I yearn dawn's gory deeds, to deliver me from my purified agonies. And i shed tears of joy and i shed tears of pain. Acid tears, hatched in the hollows of obscenity. I need to dress up the gown of your fears, i need to hold the thorny edges of your dreams, inside my palms. I need to bleed for the sake of your shade. For your shade fetches the sanity of my memories.

You are there, bewildered in my memories cocoon. My darling butterfly in captivity, my love for you is a moth's uttered benison, the benison of a woman with black eyes and a white pigeon that nests in her breast. A woman waiting for me in the bright side of the moon. I want her as the seasons want tears of heaven and hell on their balcony, lest a pilgrim's boat, loaded with the ink of my love's demise, sails towards the gory deeds of dawn with a white cloath on its mast. With no sea gull, fleeing its minstrel's dismal song, to forsake its past...

Original artwork: "each with one player", by ~myebe, on deviantART
http://myebe.deviantart.com/art/each-with-one-player-289642147

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