Demptius
would you also be able to cry
arriving where you called home,
seeing every empty and cold corner
without even the shadow of the one who left?
I speak of these colossal absences
hammering at every moment
a nail of anguish in the chest,
just to make it clear that absolutely everything
has lost its meaning and in the window of the planet
only a sad and desolate landscape
of remoteness reigns,
the devastated and battered land
by the sound of a wind that doesn't care to be bad,
sweeping inhumanly
the place where all the names
that you call by the same poisoned letters dwell,
the place where each new face of the days
belongs to the same ghost
that for your nightmare and torture
no longer haunts you.
Copyright © Marco Chies | Year Posted 2022
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