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Casanova, where art thou

Casanova, where art thou

A Poem by .:Arianna:.

'T was a mask.
The golden mask,
that made him
Casanova.

The mystery,
the charm,
the flame,
the poems.

The poems that made me his.

'T was just the words.
'T was Casanova.

Who is he now,
now that the mask
lies thrown before my feet?
And he is gone...

Was it not,
after all,
a desperate try
to be free?
One last hope,
he could be
who we all realised he's not.

He can't be Casanova.
For Casanova lies before my feet.
The longing,the love.the seduction.
The Beauty that was left for me.

Casanova never flees. 
Not even when he runs out of words.
He lingers, silent and bewildering,
in this new form of poetry.

Reasons I need not to hear.
It is the fact, and that is clear.
So I suppose, If he allows me to say so,
his act is over.
The curtain closed,
no need to hover.

'T is Casanova,
the best part of him.




© 2011 .:Arianna:.



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Reviews

I like this. The graphic and color is great. The words are nicely descriptive. I think the length could have been a little less though since this appears slightly wordy.

Very nice overall though.

Posted 6 Years Ago



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686 Views
3 Reviews
Added on July 6, 2011
Last Updated on July 6, 2011
Tags: mask, truth and lie, deceit, love, sacrifice, obscurity, clarity, contradiction, seduction, imagery

Author

.:Arianna:.
.:Arianna:.

Amsterdam, Netherlands



About
Welcome to my page and thank you for stopping by. I am Arianna, half Dutch, half Greek, half explorer, half philosopher. I was born in Amsterdam but at the age of one I moved with my parents to Greece.. more..

Writing