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Monday, March 25, 2019

Poème anglais


Every story ends with a murder
Every character, torn asunder
It’s a mortiferous obsession
There never is a good enough reason
To die…

Today always seems a little too late
Finality the only true face of fate
Hell the grain of sand that falls  last
Into the final turning of the hourglass
Your death

Give me back my mother
Give me back my youth
Hope eventually stops to shimmer
The human body left uncouth
Courses of action aborted
Promising children turn to bitter old men
Velleity inhibited
I want to go back and fail all over again

Shameful deeds, indelible
Misdemeanour just because you’re able
Intoxicated by the sins you wrought
Remembering the past now leaves you distraught
What now?

It hurts more today than it did back then
Regrets turn to memories, a caustic burden
And yet it’s easier to cry about lost hopes
Than to make the step into a new abode
Same old...

Whatever happened
To the shy side glance?
To the laughing children?
To the first heartfelt romance?
Is now the time for broken heart?
A time for loneliness?
I see you, I see the time to part
I see you losing to the illness

We can’t seem to break the routine of pain
Some have it easy, it’s not our case
Disaster after disaster we strain
Don’t dare say it’s just a phase
I was born under the sign
Of an impending tragedy
Any intervention of the divine
Seems lost to some apathy

It’s a darker shade of life
The lost of basic free will
To pay destiny some kind of tithe
In the hope of gaining a standstill
But in the end it’s just coming
Straight at you like a wall
For the racer unsuspecting
Which speed surreptitiously enthrall

Nothing prepares for the moment the mind
Becomes in all manners blind
Melt into the primordial soup
Never gives us time to regroup
Until the end

The crisis becomes the stuff of songs
And so many voices tell me to be strong
But they don’t know how lost I am
Without her voice, I’m as good as damned
Finished

The wheel inexorably turns
I can only watch it from afar
Carrying me away from the times I yearn
Stripping you of who you are
I now live in a nightmare
Where the beasts on my flesh repast
I raise my eyes, meet theirs, I dare:
“Give me back my past!”

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