Meadows

The winds caresses my worn out face,
and weeps away my tears but all in vain,
for they refuse to being stopped,
they simply do not want to come to a halt.
Along the meadows I walk my way,
trying to forget all that once took place,
but your scent I still can smell,
and it haunts me,
and in my mind I deny the absurdity of what has become
yet reality slashes my spirit
and forces me in the admittance of your gone,
but once again my mind finds no reflection
and my walls all crumble in deception.
The immensity of these fields retrieve the memories of you,
and even more my acceptance seems not to materialise in the truth,
and as I trudge my way through the greenness,
my own heart gets torn apart and darkens.
Now the rain falls in peace
and I inevitably fall onto my knees enveloped by sorrow,
and I realise that in this dead life of mine there is no tomorrow,
and all hope is gone , and I will eventually renounce to my own self for ever more,
for there shall be nothing to live or to die for.
The heavens seem to cry in unison for my grief,
that has selfishly embraced all in me,
and has deprived me of any further joy,
and of any other gust of wind blowing

RQ
Moscow
27/5/10
23:18