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Beneath the knots of time hidden in fallen planks
Beneath the knots of time hidden in fallen planks,
Feet dangle, shattered by the shadow of oblivion.
Through an eyebrow of sun clothed in pollen and decline,
A hand strikes a bargain to see how light spins a new face,
A shadow play mimicking that all is sublime—
Will the morning be born with another chance at rebirth?
Deep are the marks of denial that weigh down my efforts,
In the tomb of night's silence, I find myself a fortress.
Abandoned in thought to rise from the prayer of the evening,
I reject the bitter pulp of disillusionment that poisons my palace,
Love has left me with yellowed skin, a testament of solitude.
Moved by the peace of the darkness that enwraps the blinded sky;
A queen in a black onyx gown with a crown on display.
Cleansing my strength through the weakness revealed,
I regain elegance through the Spirit Father — I felt you guiding me in the night.
The cool balm of twilight for my scorched wounds,
You witnessed my ascent towards dawn;
Rising above the fissures of insanity,
It is as you said it would be—I am alive,
Enriched by the supreme gift of existence.
Copyright ©
Dan Enache
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