In the twilight of a violet sunset, when my soul dons veils of melancholy
In the twilight of a violet sunset, when my soul dons veils of melancholy,
I sit alone, surrounded by phantasms and unspoken words, whispering ancient incantations,
My verses, silk threads woven from starry tears and lunar sighs,
Rise towards the celestial vault, carrying the secrets of my troubled heart.
Poetry is my hidden kingdom, a crystal citadel buried in the mist of the mind,
Where no one can enter, where each syllable is a drop from the elixir of immortality,
Each metaphor, a rare flower grown from the fertile soil of divine experiences,
And the rest of the world is but a faded shadow, lost in the maelstrom of eternity.
Who dares to step into my garden of verses, to profane my altar of creation?
Who can understand the cosmic storm in a poet's soul, the infinite ocean of emotions?
Let me sing my pain and ecstasy to the rhythm of my bleeding heart,
For poetry is my sacred temple, and you, mere mortals, have no place in the sanctuary of words.
In the deep night of creation, when the moon weeps silver on astral parchments,
I transform into an alchemist of the divine verb, melting reality into mystical verses,
Creating new universes from the ashes of memories and the dust of shattered dreams,
And you, who do not perceive the magic of this sacred ritual, can depart to profane realms.
Each poem is a piece of my celestial essence, a prayer whispered in primordial darkness,
An invocation addressed to the forgotten gods of inspiration and eternal beauty,
I care not for your petty criticism, for your ephemeral misunderstanding,
For I exist through poetry, and you are but passing shadows on the cave wall.
So leave me alone with my verses, with my demons and seraphim,
With metaphors dancing in my mind like blue flames from another dimension,
Poetry is my intimate ritual, the cosmic blood flowing through the veins of my personal universe,
And you, who do not feel the divine vibration of words, can lose yourselves in the void of oblivion.
Copyright ©
Dan Enache
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