Void

The artist paints his emotions on the canvas.

The poët puts a part of his soul on the dead tree.

 

Till sunsets comes no more.

Till  the rain in my eyes runs back.

 

The water in the well is almost gone.

I can’t see the reflection of my face anymore.

 

The sun burns what is left from the flower.

The dust is blown away  to the place where my memories stay.

Deep below….

 

My vision misleads me,  they tell me a angel is by my side.

But all I notice is the emptiness where you once were.

 

The smell of your skin takes me back to sin of  Adam and Eve

Into Love, into Lust and the words: “you are mine”

 

Your lips , the apple given to Snowwhite…sweet poison…let me bite.

Beloved one, the wolf I am, let me in your house, I will blow you away…

Too late….

 

Only the void remains….!!

Only your grace stays…!!

 

Only in my songs she lives .

( I am still here)