Les plus lus ▸
Dave Bonta
past all fear
we come to a labyrinth
nothing in it
but accidents like dust
falling down over all
the land in pieces
without any other design
but love
Hey there, my dearest,
I have something on my mind
that's been spiraling through and through for some time now.
Hey there, sweet darling,
I feel this clenching in my chest;
it's more than a feeling - it's a physicality in its own, soaking in the guilt, the silence, the distortions.
It's hard to speak of it,
when all the attempts are being absorbed into this... void.
I tried to break through for quite a while,
but I guess the fright is enlarged in all its might by now.
But I was not born to bow down,
I'm not alive to be enslaved to the torture and the pain.
It's time I untie my tongue, time to free the mind.
Dearest,
I am sorry.
The long, grim years with iron tread
Move down the shuttered isle
Of time's unrecking labyrinth
Paved with forgotten dead.
And I, a feather in their wake,
Gaze long and tremblingly
Into these sunless corridors,
Praying the light to break!