endless – Portrait of Em.

story-of-romance

Release my soul,
While murder most foul;
My blood has spilled
on the wall, dark and dull:

“Yet each man kills the thing he loves”
My death is nothing but
But the motif of i am beloved.

Release my mind
and keep me blind,
Leave me alone in the paradise
dark and dull.

Written on 13 January 2015
on linkedin group “Poetry and Literature”: A Poetry game

Tic-tac, Tic-tac,
moments, seconds, minutes, hours —
days, weeks, months, years —
time passes,
silence lasts.

So what if that is just a dream?
An endless dream.

No, but it cannot be a dream —
-why?
I know not, but it just cannot be —
-what is it then?
I don’t know.

So what if it is just a game?
An endless game.
A haunting game.
A lasting game.

Yes, it must be.