In the captivity of pain

In the corner
of a small, cold room,
by the light of candles,
he is fighting against
his own fears and pain.
He is darning his heart
and wings
with the help of rhymes.
And the coffee
is compressing
in his cup in those minutes,
when the tremor is creeping
over him from extreme despair.
On the walls of the room
the shadows of metaphors are flickering.
The poet is on the edge of an objective reality
with the wounds bleeding with prose and strains.
The lines born by pain are piercing through his crying heart
and sewing together the metaphors in lacy patterns of strophes.


15 May 2007


Рецензии
Мы ищем автора стихов для песни на английском языке, естественно на платной основе. Вам это может быть интересно?

Рона Тея Мун   27.05.2007 04:10     Заявить о нарушении