The Anonymous Past

As I stop in front of this enormous gate,
The past keeps hunting me, but not now,
Not if I enter this place where I can sing,
Sing to my past in the tone that it forbids.

As I walk through this infinite garden,
Smelling the falling autumn leaves,
Hearing the wind dancing between them,
I observed another soul entering my dimension.

As I run towards the endless night’s mist,
Following my desire to hug her thin figure,
An illusion reinforced by a dark empty abyss,
Losing my future and the hunting starts again.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s