IX. Fake Castle

IX. Fake Castle

 

Evening falls,

not with golden chariot

to take you and move about

in the land of dreams.

The open passage

the bare feet

both are the hard facts not dreams with my each step

with my each move

what comes to my mind is

the drowsy dream of your sweet voice, of your rosy smell.

But with the company of the heartless Time

with no interest

at the beats of nerves

with the blank eyes

and in empty glance

I hear the castle falls

on the bank of our childhood

-- once we made together

against the threatening foams.

 

To your questioning eyes,

“we are for eternity,

not these foams”,

was the answer

that seems a lie today

a fake piece of faith

like a cracking table with

no lasting legs.

 

Done