Insidious is thee,
Who rummages through fallen psyches
Delving quite deep
Beyond remorse,
In a way farther than solitude wishes to go
Where thine eyes remain shut
Or else wither by the absolute sorrow
Devoured by tears insomuch the clouds
Could never rain enough
Where the skies are always gray
And the wind forever feels like an artic chill
An atmosphere so cold and desolate
Betraying the passion of yearning –
so fervently searing in their souls
How to live, I ask thy lovingkindness,
Who’s ways have perpetuated nothing of hope or understanding
Marveled at how we still want an answer
After immortality has passed us
And expressing woe has reached every possible sigh,
Every possible word,
Every possible stare into the infinity of unhappiness...
Copyright © Juan Antonìo Thomas, 2005
...
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