All things are in my gaze:
In the air,
There is music.
In my ear,
I could hear the orchestration
Of the crickets.
In my skin,
The solemn requiem of the wind
In the trees to the coming day.
I am to the dusk,
Painting its sunset
Waning its blaze.
At night above,
I could look and ponder on
The orderly march
Of glittering galaxies,
Curtaining the velvet
Backdrop of the universe.
This I sigh and say to God,
"These things quite escape my mind".
I evoke the moaning Stars,
Bad memories reviving behind my bars.
I recur not having a care ;
Imagining we were soulmates.
I relive being so elated,
To bring it to the top.
I remember where it all started ;
And where my meekness stopped.
I recall the closing door -
The way he fiercely corked.
I remember being so afraid ;
The way he wildly looked.
I try to forget the menace,
But I was forcibly stuck.
And I recall the obscession that occurred
The moment he tried to wave.
I effort to neglect the disgrace and woe!
Curtaining for the bright.
But I remember from that day;
Life was never the right.
I remember meagre more,
As the years passed.
And I am still trying to escape;
From the massacre of his lust.
I remember my family didn't know,
And I am not competent to share of.
But I am afraid to go out;
As the neighbours are ready to harass of.
Slowly the fog comes creeping, then swish
Fog covers all thickening fast
Swirling, shawl like, curtaining
Sunflower's yellow gone
Wrapped in tapestry
Waiting for sun's
Appearance
Lifted
Veil
Allegory: Symbolic work:
A work in which the characters
and events are to be understood
as representing other things
and symbolically expressing
a deeper, often spiritual, moral,
or political meaning..
Giorgio
I hear outside my window the grey dove cry
As sun slides down the mountains, and I sigh
Watching night curtaining my city
Blotting streaks of violet from the sky
Shadows start to overtake the little light
Left glimmering as day turns into night.
He has left me! Easily the dark
Empties out the joy in me that once burned bright.
No trace of light remains under the door’s crack.
The dark, dressed in ebony, slips into pitch black.
Melancholy wraps me in my silent room.
In anguish, my brain screams out: I want him back!