Blue Myshkin Flowers – Waltz

I dare not the dream of love hear, 

for the fear that my soul be stirred.

The white dress and flowers you wear,

mine eyes your beauty lured.

Confused I am, in the wine I consumed, 

in a darkest hour coldness caresses.

Oh my memories I bear, pages float in the air,

sweet red roses of a purpleheart tear.

Published in: on 26/02/2015 at 2:19 AM  Leave a Comment  

Dream Note n.3 – Fryderyk

In February the feathers fall, again your face is there.

Mist thicker than snow, my heart sinks in the air.

I wake in alarm from fears, twice my morning tears. 

See not my forest so bleak, a silently dreadful nightmare.

Sorrows from fears I find, not of any mortal danger. Of

you my dreams unwind yet, how that immortal coldness lingers.

Orpheus betrayed my darkness, the sun cannot dissolve my pain.

Untamed my spirit in songs, a bell tower, a crane.

Published in: on 16/02/2015 at 10:25 AM  Leave a Comment  

Pavane for a Dead Quill Murdered by Princess Rosie on the Dark Persian Carpet, in C Minor

What have we here? A crime scene!

What drama is this? A quill on its belly!

Where is the cat? Hiding under the table!

O my poor dear quill! Sleep, sleep.

In a throne of oak and neckless of silver,

the wine washes her most delicate feather.

Loneliness her friend with songs of wisdom,

an angel befits not this worldly weather.

One cannot fathom the sufferings of a swan,

to journey beyond this country town.

Vaults of treasures in hearts they hold,

such greed of being shall weigh them down.

Endless wanderings of a curious soul,

with nothing else but a loving heart.

Yearning for love she fell onto this soil,

yet she hears nothing but requiems der lark.

O! What will she had for all her being!

Alas! The apple cannot but fall from the tree.

Uncertainty her fate in the hands of her master,

who mastered the finest art of murder.

The skeletal remains, the feathers soaked in blood.

Unconditional forgiveness, unconditional love.

In her grave she weeps, not of her fate.

But of the ignorance of her murderer of her heart.

The finale sings the sea of tears.

Tears of gratitude for this most meaningful art.

Published in: on 08/02/2015 at 11:48 PM  Leave a Comment  

Dream Note n.2 in E minor – Jean Paul, Fyodor, Emmanuel

Yet again I dream of confusion, in the empty space you created.

Once a flourishing stave of quavers, now an awakening deserted.

Unspoken words in a cage they scream, no peace may I find in a silent reprise.

And yet most serene and blissful I felt when I think of you in my paradise.

Remember of my last dream I uttered, childish that I was and still am I?

End of a dream when the cold airs flutter, of our empty space I too well realise.

Bloody tears and pulsing veins, a crying heart most painful my demise.

Eternal doom is in this world my fate, yet that fate you queried and shattered my lies.

And yet afraid we are of us, of the caring, the frailty, the ungraspable other.

Unseen love where your beauty hides? Is this mystery not her very nature?

Too soon I arrived and too soon you appear, too soon for our wisdom to bear.

In silence I shall suffer for thee for me, write to me but not of what you wear.

For to you I belong, all else for you I journey towards and to you I return.

Under the clouds, a soft song, though you hear not of how my passions burn.

Let me be yours, your slave or your prince, I will die for you, my heart’s urn.

Published in: on 08/02/2015 at 10:31 AM  Leave a Comment