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Poem
Through storms, the sea of the bridge shivers,
Silken curves of titanium on pillars of ancient stone,
Dust gathers in my fists like onyx under veils of rusted gold,
And in the cosmic silence, my thoughts float like leaves on rivers of forgotten desires.
The ravens, those black-winged dwellers of the restless sky,
Fly above the solitary woman in the desert of dreams,
She crumbles, and they, predators of the darkness, encircle her,
Her body becomes an altar of melancholy for the scholars of shadows, dressed in the garment of oblivion.
Leaves crackle under the steps of the pale moon, sketching maps of dream and reality,
The sounds of footsteps and heavy breaths are not mine, but of the unknown from the depths,
Therefore, my shadow trembles, dancing in sync with my undefined fears.
Saltwater crocodiles, mythical beasts from the abysses of life's river,
The anaconda coils, time and destinies intertwine,
A door solemnly opens in a forgotten pyramid of secret Egypt,
The Pharaoh, the spirit of the past, invokes sandstorms to raise the mummies from eternal sleep.
Their faces, a tapestry of loss, birds and dogs forging the path to ruin,
And later, the screams of children in the night of the unknown,
A choir of shadows and memories, singing the thin line between dream and nightmare.
In the crepuscular hall, we dance on the edge of reality and fantasy,
The reflection in my eyes, an enigmatic feline, mysteries and secrets embraced,
The cat stole your voice, its claws touching you with the care of unfulfilled dreams.
All float on the river of time with scarlet necklaces, tangled ghosts of memory,
Pandora opened the box, the labyrinth known to Alice revealing its enigmas,
The Wonderland, a land of madness and death, where we remain lost,
The dead gather for tea and cakes, embracing stiffened memories.
The zenith of onyx, the frozen razor, and black rose petals unite,
A mystical carousel of viscerals and scarlet matter, transformed into feathers,
The Phoenix of legends reborn, followed by the shadows of darkness longing for the light.
Thus, I find myself here, wandering among shadows draped in silence,
Do you think you've seen dark poetry? Hmm...
With eyes sewn shut, I doubt your poetic precepts,
The first rule: art is not veiled in faded colors,
I do not conform, nor will I dance to the whims of the shadow,
The game is life, fine, see you in the ring, child of shadows.
Oh, and I did not become a poet, I was born Poetio, encompassed by shadow,
Egomania is necessary when walking on Gothic paths,
On the dark alley, the blade slides, sparks fly like nocturnal butterflies.
Marsupials rush, a hunt of shadows in a play of light,
I hunger for what is lost, mahogany flesh in a deluded world,
But my shadow remains mute, awaiting eternity, the deaf call of the infinite.
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