Diaries From Distant Shores I

PART I. I. each night... I think about the moment when we'll vanish on the doormat of an empty house because I know some day they will come - the malignant conquistadors and their moon colored hounds when this century of the sleepless will come to an end so I'm trying to unravel the missing monologues while indulging in many contradictions stranded on remote beaches seeking the redemption with sand in my hair like a famished cormorant rambling the landfill in a very weird mental state II. it's becoming clear... that time has shunned this godforsaken place and as I'm following the familiar landmarks following the strange candlelit pathways I know that your bedroom is in a saltwater heaven far away from the angry masses becalming myself in my transient refuge while you're deploying your crying talent we went loose from our moorings and you refused the safety buoy now tide of our sensations is coming up fast turning us into these crumpled wrecks left to rust at the shallow bay III. these sleeping islands... are just relics of my hopes, diaries of fading sunlight after we carved our scriptures on the dormant rocks creating museums of our own memories at the very edge of despair and I think that we'll never be missed you, me and my companion of delusions but remember dear, there are no boundaries be sure that I'd row my soul over the vast seas to see you standing on the abandoned shoreline and our handprints will fossilize in the interim imprinting the fatal visions to rocky soil