Friday, October 10, 2014

Jeu de la passion

J'ai peur
la solitude sans fin
l'ennui et la tristesse  
when the sky is just clouds
gray and bleeding down
I could swear
I can see tears falling
and despite myself
they are strangely comforting
able to feel the embrace
of the eternal's arms
as we turn
around and around
in constant
pirouette
we dance
waiting for the dream to end
but it never does
nor should it
I cannot ask
and I can never stop
it would be
a Sisyphus-like task
to disengage
and leave the embrace
outside of the eternal's reach
what and who am I?
but meat in a cage
raging decay
followed by a promenade
jeu de la passion
for the exiled king?