When I stand at the end of our love

(for A)
 
I
 
When I stand at the end of our love
that disappears as if the flame
of destiny determines our feelings
then you trample my humanity to its depths.
When that which we see as holy does go lost
it makes my wonder, 
if we can find a place somewhere
without any suspicion
where things are peaceful and clear
where we both are stripped from others,
where you wait faithful
with every word and deed a small witness
that our feelings did not change
in the glittering night full of stars.
 
 
II
 
In the glittering night full of stars
(...)

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no longer

i no longer feel pain when you enter my mind and i no longer long for you i only long for wat we used to have though im sure the one i have now can give me more then wat you did

You

Magic is the moment when I cling to you
Hoping that I do the same for you
Your love is what’s made me new
Without it; I know I’d be blue

Your smile; makes my days shine
Your laugh; has to be one of a kind
When I’m with you; there is no time
You’ve rendered me; love blind

No song can match your sweet voice
Together; we are the right choice
Kissing your lips; supple and moist
Your mine; to cherish; to rejoice.

In The Midst of My Solitude

When there's a time that I am down
I run alone and make no sound
Pitches of darkness to me surround
As dejection and doldrums are around

I glimpse myself imprinted in agony
My humanity runs out of melody
Distressed, ruined, and even in misery
I shed tears to ease out this melancholy

Squeeze of loneliness tears me apart
Thousand of swords pierce this forlorn heart
Tunes of happiness to me depart
Expression of grief is a good start

I come to cry in the pouring rain
I shout to release the feelings of pain
Life seems useless; gloom is all I attain
Desperation of living pricks my brain

My heart aches much and even shatters
Life for me now; it does not matter
It's as if i am in an unsounded water
(...)

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Dreams and Darkness

This is what it seems to be in a dream
So beautiful that the very thought of waking is distasteful?
To see the yawning chasm of the doorway back to the world of the waking,
And to know that you have no choice but to step through that door once more.
Standing in the twilight of truth and fantasy,
And realizing that having both is an impossibility.
To be caught between the bright color of one and the stark pallor of the other,
And recognize that you cannot remain in the color.
Knowing, realizing, recognizing, that the choice you have has already been made,
And that no matter your fear, you cannot stay.

This is how it feels when the darkness holds you,
So warm and so tight, comforting you when the world is cold.
This is how it feels when the light tears you away from that warm embrace,
Throwing you back into the harsh reality to be tossed until your very soul becomes seasick.
Unresting, helpless, hopeless, sick and tired,
And knowing no island will rise to save you.
To remember the dark embrace, and being stuck in the rolling sea of light.
Chained and bound to a world you did not choose.
Blinded, sick, and exhausted as you try to keep your head above the rolling waves,
And feeling your muscles slowly give way.

What is this?
(...)

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Poems from a Visit to Sassari

Roman Forged Nails

(On seeing origional nails forged by the Romans in Porto Torres. Probably akin to the ones that crucified Christ.)

Was it nails, like these driven
Through Christs limbs, on the cross
Before he dies, as if in vain
For man still sins, to spite the loss
Of life, for all our sins offered
For my soul, and yours to save
Was it nails like these that imapaled the Man
Who rose after three days from the Grave?

Dead Romans Names Upon Stones

(After seeing transcripts of names carved into sacrphages excavated at Porto Romano in Porto Torres town)

Of all the dead among the ruins
The poor, they are remembered not
Only names of the rich are carved in stone
The poor, unrecorded, left to rot

But, for all their riches, these Romans too
(...)

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