My grey soul invades my ultimate eternity,

scratching the walls built around poetry,

finding silent spaces of rainy memories

as I revenge myself against my asymmetry.

Rhymes get lost within as I swim across words

gone with the swift wind in my early darkness.

Poems of fire dissolving my elastic boundaries,

shores of disguised pain and some madness.

My blurred heart floats to the cruel clouds

until my blood emerges again in my tired veins.

Wounded hands cry for forgotten feelings and life

as I die writing parts of me bound with chains.

Karla Bardanza

1 comment:

  1. "wounded hands cry for forgetten dreams and life...."
    Oh my, this poem is full of sorrow, and the sanctity of premise, deluded in time, caught on pages yellowed forever...
    ad infinitum.... endless and as a vapor....