"I extend a cordial greeting to the entire Hive.blog community, especially the writers' guild. Below I offer you an original poetry with a slight existential touch, which I have "republished" in English, in addition to making some layout arrangements to achieve greater visual contrast and highlight the dark atmosphere that the theme adds. I consider that this post has many mixed feelings and surreal images, arising from the deep inspiration of the author. For that and more reasons I have decided to republish, reiterating my commitment as a writer to the public and the platform in general.. Thanks for reading, I hope you like it."
"I did not dare to look, I only heard, the game of my mind, and faint, to the heart, in a manifest ritual..."
Lying on the cot,
my weight so enormous,
and the faint beating of the brain,
it was magical light,
of a bard
singing
angelic
Anxious, hoarse,
lute-like,
pronounced with ample
disdain,
in the laconic rhyme
one night,
No sky
I dozed, thinking poetry,
I dreamed a dream
inside a dream,
my song sank without weakness,
swarming,
to the rhythm of the dream
silence
As if it were the last
versed,
for another just like me,
writer of the shady sonnet,
on wind blades,
transparent
I did not dare to look,
I only heard, the cruel game of my mind,
and tenuous, to the heart,
in a manifest ritual
with the horrible, tick, tock,
of a clock called
death
Those, concise in cadence,
drumbeats, with an ostentatious creak,
they made me motionless on the cot,
between two realities
that I didn't want
to debate
I was submerged in nothingness,
swallowing my rambling in the dark,
choppy words
they appeared in my mouth,
unable to cross
the unemployed
expiration...
Winged angels,
in infinite dance,
took the form of eminent frustration,
trapped in a dream, dark,
my two hells,
and me,
guided by his light
to hell
Next...
END
venezuela
2022
Resources: Image
Here you can read the Spanish version: link
