Mittwoch, 4. November 2009

Hitokiri



In the mellow sheets of the shredded sunset

Lies the warrior standing on his sheathed sword
There he is, eyes wide shut
Listening to her singing
Of that blade which protects him from previous raping
There he stands, supporting himself on the invisible aggression
That shattered blade he wields unknowingly on his defense
Even after sworn against it
That broken mirror that does not exist
It's all he has left to be

Before him, the crowds walk
Ignoring this old young shadow
He recognizes some faces
Remembering his unexisting life
Sorrow and regret bloom within his urge
He grabs the handle, ready to attack the peace...
Does he refrain?
Two tears are shed, only he remains...

André Cunha



1 Kommentar:

André Cunha hat gesagt…

Sim, é piroso, mas hoje apeteceu-me acabar com as dúvidas.