In this moonlit night,
I cry for thee,
you who has abandoned this earth,
the place where I find myself flooded in tears,
moisturing that pendant of yours...
My tears entwined with the rain,
hide my sorrow from my face,
but my heart sinks once more,
and the thought of you brings me to my knees,
and all i do is cry for thee to be here with me,
for I am unprotected without your company,
my lamp has no candle and I cannot see.
The cold wind slaps my face,
and I raise my arms for consolation,
for in this life without you I seem not to understand,
and sorrow and sadness do not leave me apart,
yet i desire them to leave me,
for just being without you is the greatest of pain,
and my tears simply do not stop from flowing.
Vilnius - Lithuania
4.1.12
r
Saturday 28 January 2012
Cheer to Solitude
Great is the time,
I salute you solitude of mine,
thought I was alone,
but since you're here,
let's drink away the sorrows with tears.
Raise your glass solitude of mine,
your empty chair's at the same place,
for I always think of you,
even when you're away.
My confident you are,
and here you embrace me,
for you love me for what I am,
and with your cold hand you caress me.
Oh sweet solitude of mine,
my tears do not wipe,
away from me you seem not to hide,
let's drink to these sorrows,
for they cannot fly.
raise your glass solitude of mine,
enchant me one more time,
with the careless whims of this dead life,
that has remorselessly overpowered me.
I salute you solitude of mine,
and I drink for your company,
ceaseless and timeless.
Your empty seat you have at my table,
in winter cold nights,
under the flickering light,
of a sadened candle.
Let them not hear my muffled cries,
which I try to raise in darkened nights,
take them with you,
and all of them I beg of you to hide.
I thought i was alone,
but here I am,
bathed in tears,
with you my beloved one,
with you solitude of mine,
who persists to come along,
no matter the time.
You my inconditional companion,
you the one who has been cast away,
cast away by oblivion,
and therefore I tell you,
take thy righteous place,
and let us drink these sorrows away!
Vilnius - Lithuania
4.1.12
r
I salute you solitude of mine,
thought I was alone,
but since you're here,
let's drink away the sorrows with tears.
Raise your glass solitude of mine,
your empty chair's at the same place,
for I always think of you,
even when you're away.
My confident you are,
and here you embrace me,
for you love me for what I am,
and with your cold hand you caress me.
Oh sweet solitude of mine,
my tears do not wipe,
away from me you seem not to hide,
let's drink to these sorrows,
for they cannot fly.
raise your glass solitude of mine,
enchant me one more time,
with the careless whims of this dead life,
that has remorselessly overpowered me.
I salute you solitude of mine,
and I drink for your company,
ceaseless and timeless.
Your empty seat you have at my table,
in winter cold nights,
under the flickering light,
of a sadened candle.
Let them not hear my muffled cries,
which I try to raise in darkened nights,
take them with you,
and all of them I beg of you to hide.
I thought i was alone,
but here I am,
bathed in tears,
with you my beloved one,
with you solitude of mine,
who persists to come along,
no matter the time.
You my inconditional companion,
you the one who has been cast away,
cast away by oblivion,
and therefore I tell you,
take thy righteous place,
and let us drink these sorrows away!
Vilnius - Lithuania
4.1.12
r
Dreams of Dreams
Dreams of dreams that never cease,
uncontrolably they flourish,
and when all is gone...
what am I to be?
an earthly-bound being,
sprinkling them dreams here.
These dreams do not halt,
they even tear me apart,
for their reality is too far,
overflooding me in times to pass,
capturing me off guard,
leaving me unprotected,
slapping my face,
abandoning me to the cruelties of faith.
Dreams of endless love,
a love that becomes dead,
when I open my eyes to contemplate,
and all I see is reality,
inexorably embraced by pain,
what am I to be again?
Wish these dreams of sweetness,
perish as the sun rises,
they only provoke surrealism,
the agony of living in them,
is the highest of all the prices,
for reality strikes joined by dreams,
and all that there is to be,
are oceans of tears,
all of them streaming down endlessly.
Dreams of dreams that never cease,
dreams of dreams that make me see,
their unreality in me,
and hence I drown in my own seas,
drowning in tears, so know to me,
what am I to be?
I may perish in dreams of dreams,
I may somehow be redeemed,
for the pain inside is with a dead reality,
that reaches out with its obscure hand,
as to catch me,
as to blind me.
Shall I be blinded by dreams,
all in all with their shiny beams,
luring me in moments,
I hear them hissing at me,
yet my heart seems to resist,
for they may overpower me,
scattering my wits,
leaving me once and for all ceased.
What am I to be?
they seem to beckoning me,
reality all stark is hard to see,
yet I desire to believe,
that in dreams I may for ever live,
embrace them as i take my leave,
off this world I may be,
off to where he cherishes me,
caresses me,
loves me.
Vilnius - Lithuania
4.1.12
r
uncontrolably they flourish,
and when all is gone...
what am I to be?
an earthly-bound being,
sprinkling them dreams here.
These dreams do not halt,
they even tear me apart,
for their reality is too far,
overflooding me in times to pass,
capturing me off guard,
leaving me unprotected,
slapping my face,
abandoning me to the cruelties of faith.
Dreams of endless love,
a love that becomes dead,
when I open my eyes to contemplate,
and all I see is reality,
inexorably embraced by pain,
what am I to be again?
Wish these dreams of sweetness,
perish as the sun rises,
they only provoke surrealism,
the agony of living in them,
is the highest of all the prices,
for reality strikes joined by dreams,
and all that there is to be,
are oceans of tears,
all of them streaming down endlessly.
Dreams of dreams that never cease,
dreams of dreams that make me see,
their unreality in me,
and hence I drown in my own seas,
drowning in tears, so know to me,
what am I to be?
I may perish in dreams of dreams,
I may somehow be redeemed,
for the pain inside is with a dead reality,
that reaches out with its obscure hand,
as to catch me,
as to blind me.
Shall I be blinded by dreams,
all in all with their shiny beams,
luring me in moments,
I hear them hissing at me,
yet my heart seems to resist,
for they may overpower me,
scattering my wits,
leaving me once and for all ceased.
What am I to be?
they seem to beckoning me,
reality all stark is hard to see,
yet I desire to believe,
that in dreams I may for ever live,
embrace them as i take my leave,
off this world I may be,
off to where he cherishes me,
caresses me,
loves me.
Vilnius - Lithuania
4.1.12
r
Thoughts of Him
Twilight reigns where my feelings rest,
I give you my thoughts of him,
though i treasure what I have kept,
I relinquish them,
for that is best,
for I retreat my intentions,
but I may let in frustration,
I may regret this decision,
but of him, I have no intentions.
Flying in wings of illusions,
is not the solution,
for ilussion is a tricky creature,
luring its victims into dreams,
perfect in features.
So I give my thoughts of him,
his stare I give up,
his smile I might give to the stars,
I relinquish him off my mind,
for it is best and right in time,
before I cry,
before I fly.
Vilnius - Lithuania
4.1.12
r
I give you my thoughts of him,
though i treasure what I have kept,
I relinquish them,
for that is best,
for I retreat my intentions,
but I may let in frustration,
I may regret this decision,
but of him, I have no intentions.
Flying in wings of illusions,
is not the solution,
for ilussion is a tricky creature,
luring its victims into dreams,
perfect in features.
So I give my thoughts of him,
his stare I give up,
his smile I might give to the stars,
I relinquish him off my mind,
for it is best and right in time,
before I cry,
before I fly.
Vilnius - Lithuania
4.1.12
r
Friday 27 January 2012
Waiter
Eyes locked in a stare,
space inanimate,
bright eyes engaged,
nothing matters but the gaze,
just as sweet as a riped fruit,
golden as honey,
they enlighten my mood.
I open his heart for my love upcoming,
words are not needed,
often I impede them,
for when eyes are engaged,
words flee away.
His stare soothes me,
message is given,
he sets me free in golden wings,
he melts my heart,
and sadness he rips it apart.
Passion is in his eyes,
envelops me in desire,
stirs my love,
feeds my soul,
do not halt my love,
grace is upon us,
overflooding our cups,
with love and fortune on us,
for love is recognised,
and with her embrace she binds.
Eyes locked in a stare,
language of the soul flares,
love blooms shyly,
and we behold it mightly,
for it is only us,
no time, no fuss,
just him and me,
souls entwined as they should be,
first love of true kind,
under this magical night,
taste the sweetness of fruit,
love has bloomed.
Vilnius - Lithuania
3.1.12
r
space inanimate,
bright eyes engaged,
nothing matters but the gaze,
just as sweet as a riped fruit,
golden as honey,
they enlighten my mood.
I open his heart for my love upcoming,
words are not needed,
often I impede them,
for when eyes are engaged,
words flee away.
His stare soothes me,
message is given,
he sets me free in golden wings,
he melts my heart,
and sadness he rips it apart.
Passion is in his eyes,
envelops me in desire,
stirs my love,
feeds my soul,
do not halt my love,
grace is upon us,
overflooding our cups,
with love and fortune on us,
for love is recognised,
and with her embrace she binds.
Eyes locked in a stare,
language of the soul flares,
love blooms shyly,
and we behold it mightly,
for it is only us,
no time, no fuss,
just him and me,
souls entwined as they should be,
first love of true kind,
under this magical night,
taste the sweetness of fruit,
love has bloomed.
Vilnius - Lithuania
3.1.12
r
Hide
Into your heart I see rains of tears,
running endlessly through white skin,
agreviating your pain,
bittering all inside,
but who am I to say what you shall be?
whom your faith shall belong?
I just see you,
see you wandering the rooms,
of that decaying castle of yours,
always rising when all seems dead,
beckoning me in my dreams,
that become nightmares by your own vanity.
I see through your hunting bright eyes,
desiring they are, yet I do not seem to catch,
will you be there when I rise?
for daylight seems endless,
just when I desire to behold you.
Into your eyes I see torment,
playing in its ground,
just the same as mine,
your darkened light knows no boundaries,
so does not mine.
Hunt me,
I'll haunt you
scratch my skin,
I'll love you,
cry for me,
I'll tear your heart apart.
sacrifice your tears in my name,
hurt your sadness,
and I'll possess you entirely,
cry for me,
I'll abandon you.
Rise again wrapped in twilight,
clothes in black,
sprinkle with dust,
behind is the dawn my sweet one,
embrace me one more time,
recognise our true destiny,
in this dark stark night,
for she is the only one that sees.
Do not lure me with my tricks,
do not share thy pain,
but only with me,
I am the one who understands,
I am and will be the only one at hand.
Your tears, my tears,
our blood, the ones we love,
our life from the death of others hearts,
that is how we survive,
what else is there to say,
that has not been said,
been said by our beloved ones.
Rules are gone,
tears are up,
pain inside,
a place to hide,
far from dawn,
far from all.
Vilnius - Lithuania
3.1.12
r
running endlessly through white skin,
agreviating your pain,
bittering all inside,
but who am I to say what you shall be?
whom your faith shall belong?
I just see you,
see you wandering the rooms,
of that decaying castle of yours,
always rising when all seems dead,
beckoning me in my dreams,
that become nightmares by your own vanity.
I see through your hunting bright eyes,
desiring they are, yet I do not seem to catch,
will you be there when I rise?
for daylight seems endless,
just when I desire to behold you.
Into your eyes I see torment,
playing in its ground,
just the same as mine,
your darkened light knows no boundaries,
so does not mine.
Hunt me,
I'll haunt you
scratch my skin,
I'll love you,
cry for me,
I'll tear your heart apart.
sacrifice your tears in my name,
hurt your sadness,
and I'll possess you entirely,
cry for me,
I'll abandon you.
Rise again wrapped in twilight,
clothes in black,
sprinkle with dust,
behind is the dawn my sweet one,
embrace me one more time,
recognise our true destiny,
in this dark stark night,
for she is the only one that sees.
Do not lure me with my tricks,
do not share thy pain,
but only with me,
I am the one who understands,
I am and will be the only one at hand.
Your tears, my tears,
our blood, the ones we love,
our life from the death of others hearts,
that is how we survive,
what else is there to say,
that has not been said,
been said by our beloved ones.
Rules are gone,
tears are up,
pain inside,
a place to hide,
far from dawn,
far from all.
Vilnius - Lithuania
3.1.12
r
Sadness and Rapture
Sadness and grief my love,
something that my heart seems not to live without,
something that the hands of those who write,
cannot get enough of,
for happiness is feeble and weak,
it cannot resist,
cannot endure the tides of life,
cannot perdure our events in life.
Sadness is the fountain,
sorrow, its sister
grief, the force
feeble hapiness, simply the result.
Cry tears my adore,
weep for those who fall,
mourn for those who are gone,
and then we shall celebrate,
celebrate the bounties of life,
the bounties of life in death,
and death in life.
Do not hide your suffering,
be yourself once more,
take your sorrows and sprinkle the world,
for it should know once and for all,
that hapiness rises but quickly falls,
when tears stream down our wanned lustre faces,
and our souls struggle,
just slowly, as we take our paces.
Believe not in earthly rapture,
this one has long ago gone,
leaving a hard to see trail,
leaving its followers lost and wailed.
Oh my love!
this world belongs to sorrow,
who embraces it as a mother would,
and whose creatures writhe and cry,
smile and smirk in their prime,
and it all gets washed away,
as pain and suffering make their way.
Raise thy sadness my dear one,
raise thy glass of suffering to the horizons,
contemplate the world and all it is about to bring upon,
tears, weeping, suffering,
and broken hearts.
Cheer for hapiness will born,
and immediately die,
yet its shadow will linger and prevail,
thence it shall be born and die again,
no matter how much pain inhabits your heart,
no matter the tears in your eyes,
for we have built their sanctuary,
of both rapture and grief.
Sorrow thy tears of love my adore,
mourn the ones who are gone,
let the night embrace thy soul,
let them become one,
just once and for all,
for time and rapture is not all,
just the begining of what is to come.
Vilnius - Lithuania
2.1.12
r
something that my heart seems not to live without,
something that the hands of those who write,
cannot get enough of,
for happiness is feeble and weak,
it cannot resist,
cannot endure the tides of life,
cannot perdure our events in life.
Sadness is the fountain,
sorrow, its sister
grief, the force
feeble hapiness, simply the result.
Cry tears my adore,
weep for those who fall,
mourn for those who are gone,
and then we shall celebrate,
celebrate the bounties of life,
the bounties of life in death,
and death in life.
Do not hide your suffering,
be yourself once more,
take your sorrows and sprinkle the world,
for it should know once and for all,
that hapiness rises but quickly falls,
when tears stream down our wanned lustre faces,
and our souls struggle,
just slowly, as we take our paces.
Believe not in earthly rapture,
this one has long ago gone,
leaving a hard to see trail,
leaving its followers lost and wailed.
Oh my love!
this world belongs to sorrow,
who embraces it as a mother would,
and whose creatures writhe and cry,
smile and smirk in their prime,
and it all gets washed away,
as pain and suffering make their way.
Raise thy sadness my dear one,
raise thy glass of suffering to the horizons,
contemplate the world and all it is about to bring upon,
tears, weeping, suffering,
and broken hearts.
Cheer for hapiness will born,
and immediately die,
yet its shadow will linger and prevail,
thence it shall be born and die again,
no matter how much pain inhabits your heart,
no matter the tears in your eyes,
for we have built their sanctuary,
of both rapture and grief.
Sorrow thy tears of love my adore,
mourn the ones who are gone,
let the night embrace thy soul,
let them become one,
just once and for all,
for time and rapture is not all,
just the begining of what is to come.
Vilnius - Lithuania
2.1.12
r
Enough Time
Will there be enough time?
enough time to forget?
just enough to forsake?
who knows.
My heart pounds,
feels heavy,
feels burned,
feels burdened.
Your soul still lingers,
and with it, my own heart.
The chimming of bells bring your memory along,
and i surrender to it,
shall time erase and make me forget?
I do not know.
Bring along memories and all,
it is a fine rainy night for it all,
just wake me up when the sun sets
Vilnius - Lithuania
2.1.12
r
enough time to forget?
just enough to forsake?
who knows.
My heart pounds,
feels heavy,
feels burned,
feels burdened.
Your soul still lingers,
and with it, my own heart.
The chimming of bells bring your memory along,
and i surrender to it,
shall time erase and make me forget?
I do not know.
Bring along memories and all,
it is a fine rainy night for it all,
just wake me up when the sun sets
Vilnius - Lithuania
2.1.12
r
I Didn't Know
I saw you walk away under the falling snow,
just walking away,
your hair covered gently,
I didn't know,
I didn't know,
it was the last time.
We forced time with our love,
and this took its revenge,
now I see it,
I thought I was in your heart,
as you were in mine,
guided by my sentiments,
I sent you kisses in my thoughts,
in my mind.
I saw you walking away,
and in a moment's breach,
my heart sank
so deep in pain,
but I just wanted to behold you,
and I disregarded my heart,
and i beheld you,
in your complex beauty,
but I didn't know,
I simply didn't know,
it was the last time.
My heart completely sank is,
my vision through a glass bottle,
my company, my solitude,
my company, a flickering candle,
my company, an empty chair,
I didn't know,
I didn't know
it was the last time.
For a moment I thought:
"She's turned her head",
you just held your red hat,
the wind was kissing you,
caressing you,
and I was jealous,
and even then, even then,
I didn't know,
I didn't know,
it was the ñast time.
We had our time,
and I cannot conceal my pain just yet,
and what I will do,
is to finish the bottle,
close the wondow,
blow out the candle,
and cry my sorrows,
for all it is over,
all came to an end,
my tears I know won't halt,
I wish I knew,
I wish I knew,
I wish I knew.
just walking away,
your hair covered gently,
I didn't know,
I didn't know,
it was the last time.
We forced time with our love,
and this took its revenge,
now I see it,
I thought I was in your heart,
as you were in mine,
guided by my sentiments,
I sent you kisses in my thoughts,
in my mind.
I saw you walking away,
and in a moment's breach,
my heart sank
so deep in pain,
but I just wanted to behold you,
and I disregarded my heart,
and i beheld you,
in your complex beauty,
but I didn't know,
I simply didn't know,
it was the last time.
My heart completely sank is,
my vision through a glass bottle,
my company, my solitude,
my company, a flickering candle,
my company, an empty chair,
I didn't know,
I didn't know
it was the last time.
For a moment I thought:
"She's turned her head",
you just held your red hat,
the wind was kissing you,
caressing you,
and I was jealous,
and even then, even then,
I didn't know,
I didn't know,
it was the ñast time.
We had our time,
and I cannot conceal my pain just yet,
and what I will do,
is to finish the bottle,
close the wondow,
blow out the candle,
and cry my sorrows,
for all it is over,
all came to an end,
my tears I know won't halt,
I wish I knew,
I wish I knew,
I wish I knew.
Sweet Divine
the soft rain tappering,
my mind wondering,
sea of thoughts,
oceasns of sorrows,
and endless lakes of tears.
My sweet divine,
of whom I made once my life,
take me with thee,
I cannot endure this horrid eternity,
not without thee,
of whom my devotion,
goes limitless,
goes free.
the rain seems to smother my cries,
cries that the wind takes away,
yet not my suffering,
neither my pain,
Oh sweet divine of mine!
you who dared the sun,
this awful merciless one,
this one who possesed you,
for ever more!
I slowly fade,
yet not pass away,
but to life I have renounced,
and now, death I shall embrace
this one shows mercy,
this one shows its darkened love,
cannot conceal my tears,
cannot conceal our love.
My sweet divine,
of whom honey skin the moon bathed,
and my lips caressed,
I seem not to endure,
this sorrow flourishes deep within
for you are here no more,
and I shall realise that soon,
for I cannot aceept it...
I will put myself to sleep,
for I cannot be,
not without thee.
Endless nights beheld my eyes,
without thee,
stark night tonight,
sun rise to come,
and with it,
my eternal sleep,
and I shall cry for thee,
my sweet divine
Vilnius - Lithuania
2.1.12
r
my mind wondering,
sea of thoughts,
oceasns of sorrows,
and endless lakes of tears.
My sweet divine,
of whom I made once my life,
take me with thee,
I cannot endure this horrid eternity,
not without thee,
of whom my devotion,
goes limitless,
goes free.
the rain seems to smother my cries,
cries that the wind takes away,
yet not my suffering,
neither my pain,
Oh sweet divine of mine!
you who dared the sun,
this awful merciless one,
this one who possesed you,
for ever more!
I slowly fade,
yet not pass away,
but to life I have renounced,
and now, death I shall embrace
this one shows mercy,
this one shows its darkened love,
cannot conceal my tears,
cannot conceal our love.
My sweet divine,
of whom honey skin the moon bathed,
and my lips caressed,
I seem not to endure,
this sorrow flourishes deep within
for you are here no more,
and I shall realise that soon,
for I cannot aceept it...
I will put myself to sleep,
for I cannot be,
not without thee.
Endless nights beheld my eyes,
without thee,
stark night tonight,
sun rise to come,
and with it,
my eternal sleep,
and I shall cry for thee,
my sweet divine
Vilnius - Lithuania
2.1.12
r
power My Heart
Power my heart with your beauty,
and do not let me drown,
in this horrid solitude,
that refuses to forsake me.
I walk my way with a bundle of memories,
memories that whither as my steps grow slower,
for they belomg to the ruins of time lived in rapture,
and with a bunch of decaying roses,
which thorns of love have pierced my skin and my heart.
whisper those words bathed in honey,
so i can breathe again,
and cast away this earthly-bounded body,
that ceases not to keep me as its own prisoner.
Why should I desire to keep it,
when my soul yearns for it to be over?
for one moment of eternal halt,
where only No More is the Queen and King.
Envelop me in your pure heart,
the one that knows no pain,
that forsakes tears and punishes sorrow,
for it is your heart I long to be in,
and it is in you I only believe.
Help me cast away this horrid pain that invades me
make it free to go into the arms of blissful oblivion,
let it be its sole guardian and castle.
Power my heart with that of yours,
make it beat once more,
for if you not,
then i shall vanquish myself from this space,
let myself fly away... just away.
ilnius - Lithuania
2.1.12
r
and do not let me drown,
in this horrid solitude,
that refuses to forsake me.
I walk my way with a bundle of memories,
memories that whither as my steps grow slower,
for they belomg to the ruins of time lived in rapture,
and with a bunch of decaying roses,
which thorns of love have pierced my skin and my heart.
whisper those words bathed in honey,
so i can breathe again,
and cast away this earthly-bounded body,
that ceases not to keep me as its own prisoner.
Why should I desire to keep it,
when my soul yearns for it to be over?
for one moment of eternal halt,
where only No More is the Queen and King.
Envelop me in your pure heart,
the one that knows no pain,
that forsakes tears and punishes sorrow,
for it is your heart I long to be in,
and it is in you I only believe.
Help me cast away this horrid pain that invades me
make it free to go into the arms of blissful oblivion,
let it be its sole guardian and castle.
Power my heart with that of yours,
make it beat once more,
for if you not,
then i shall vanquish myself from this space,
let myself fly away... just away.
ilnius - Lithuania
2.1.12
r
Embrace, Kiss
Feel not afraid of my cold embrace,
nor of what is to come,
embrace the light and throw off all earthly bounds,
for I'll take you where redemption is,
where time lapses and souls are set free.
Feel not ashamed of who you are,
be proud of the burden of your heart,
for it is a heavy one,
the one from which you have learned many a lesson,
and hence, encountered wisdom.
Feel light as a feather,
for I shall kiss your lips,
and bring you to my realm,
fear not my child,
this world does not need thee anymore.
It is me who needs you the most,
even in times to come,
even in eras to be born.
Fear not,
thy time has come,
embrace thee, kiss thee,
is al I shall need.
Vilnius - Lithuania
2.1.12
r
nor of what is to come,
embrace the light and throw off all earthly bounds,
for I'll take you where redemption is,
where time lapses and souls are set free.
Feel not ashamed of who you are,
be proud of the burden of your heart,
for it is a heavy one,
the one from which you have learned many a lesson,
and hence, encountered wisdom.
Feel light as a feather,
for I shall kiss your lips,
and bring you to my realm,
fear not my child,
this world does not need thee anymore.
It is me who needs you the most,
even in times to come,
even in eras to be born.
Fear not,
thy time has come,
embrace thee, kiss thee,
is al I shall need.
Vilnius - Lithuania
2.1.12
r
Three Crosses
The three crosses to make him not forget,
to reinforcea time of gone faith,
to seal a soul with the faith of heavens,
the one that does not succumb,
not a religion, but a firm belief.
Three crosses that stand on top of a mountain,
suggestive, witness of faith and sins,
the ones that shape and unshape the human soul.
The three crosses to mark his heart in dreams,
to pervade it with words from high above,
to make a tear of joy run through his cheek,
to set his heart with the fire of faith,
and again bring him to the path,
that heavens has laid.
The three crosses to restore the soul to the heavens,
vanquish the fake religion,
raise the spirit, and raise the soul.
Vilnius - Lithuania
2.1.12
r
to reinforcea time of gone faith,
to seal a soul with the faith of heavens,
the one that does not succumb,
not a religion, but a firm belief.
Three crosses that stand on top of a mountain,
suggestive, witness of faith and sins,
the ones that shape and unshape the human soul.
The three crosses to mark his heart in dreams,
to pervade it with words from high above,
to make a tear of joy run through his cheek,
to set his heart with the fire of faith,
and again bring him to the path,
that heavens has laid.
The three crosses to restore the soul to the heavens,
vanquish the fake religion,
raise the spirit, and raise the soul.
Vilnius - Lithuania
2.1.12
r
Dead Roses
What am I to do with this bunch of whithered roses?
Should I give them to the wind for it to blow them away?
Should I bury them in the soil?
Should I give them back to Love?
It may keep them in the temple of time,
and oblivion may show some mercy and take them with him,
for though they are whithered,
they burden my heart heavily.
A bunch of whithered roses makes the heart beg for mercy,
for their thorns are still sharp,
piercing the heart, making it bleed,
submerging it in sorrow,
pervaiding it with its hues of dark lamentations.
Oh the eras of time have played their trick on me,
abandoning me in what seems an endless lake of mournful sorrow,
leaving me trade my path with pain in heart,
with wilting roses in hands,
with a dead life to walk ceaselessly.
More roses to carry,
more of a heavy burden to keep going,
and thus, I beg to oblivion to take them away,
and plant them in its garden,
and make me forget,
I beg the wind to blow them away to unmemorable places,
I beg time to bury them in the deepest soils of eras to be forgotten,
I beg the rain to wash them away.
What am I to do with a bunch of dead roses that burden my heart,
and with their thorns that make my heart bleed?
Vilnius - Lithuania
2.1.12
r
Should I give them to the wind for it to blow them away?
Should I bury them in the soil?
Should I give them back to Love?
It may keep them in the temple of time,
and oblivion may show some mercy and take them with him,
for though they are whithered,
they burden my heart heavily.
A bunch of whithered roses makes the heart beg for mercy,
for their thorns are still sharp,
piercing the heart, making it bleed,
submerging it in sorrow,
pervaiding it with its hues of dark lamentations.
Oh the eras of time have played their trick on me,
abandoning me in what seems an endless lake of mournful sorrow,
leaving me trade my path with pain in heart,
with wilting roses in hands,
with a dead life to walk ceaselessly.
More roses to carry,
more of a heavy burden to keep going,
and thus, I beg to oblivion to take them away,
and plant them in its garden,
and make me forget,
I beg the wind to blow them away to unmemorable places,
I beg time to bury them in the deepest soils of eras to be forgotten,
I beg the rain to wash them away.
What am I to do with a bunch of dead roses that burden my heart,
and with their thorns that make my heart bleed?
Vilnius - Lithuania
2.1.12
r
Tuesday 27 December 2011
Still
My reflection in your tearful eyes,
my pain pervading me in every corner,
your piercing words,
stabbing my heart,
draining my soul,
bounding me to suffering,
tearing my spirits...
Pain is enduring,
yet it glows its unique beauty...
and what is left human of me,
beholds it charm,
still enchanting,
for you made my sentiments come to life,
and now they die...
I still love you,
I do not know you,
but I know that I love you,
I just know your soul,
I love us together,
and even submerged by pain,
I still love you
Moscow
28.12.11
r
my pain pervading me in every corner,
your piercing words,
stabbing my heart,
draining my soul,
bounding me to suffering,
tearing my spirits...
Pain is enduring,
yet it glows its unique beauty...
and what is left human of me,
beholds it charm,
still enchanting,
for you made my sentiments come to life,
and now they die...
I still love you,
I do not know you,
but I know that I love you,
I just know your soul,
I love us together,
and even submerged by pain,
I still love you
Moscow
28.12.11
r
Departure
A whole lifetime to keep you in mind,
a minute to see you walking away,
rustling autumnn leaves as you take your leave,
and my tears that infuse pain to my heart,
it does not cease beating,
for you my dear,
for you are my only art,
the heart that makes me cry,
for you are the one that compels me to fly...
Sands of time will not come to a halt,
they will offer me torment in bunches of roses,
they will not refrain in their endeavour,
of bringing you,
not back, not here, not there,
just in my mind...
A lifetime to weep your departure,
a second to behold your constitution,
a minute to see the light,
pervaiding your luster face,
being invaded by a whimming tear,
of love? contempt? regret?
A whole lifetime of torment entwined with tears,
tears from the sky, in grey nights,
shall I cover mine?
hide them in the thickness of night?
throw them all up to the sky?
and on your behalf make angels cry?
Your steps I see on the snow,
the march on, they carry on,
they will not come back,
no matter how much weep,
no matter I beg,
for you are gone,
and I know,
I will see you no more...
Moscow
28.12.11
r
a minute to see you walking away,
rustling autumnn leaves as you take your leave,
and my tears that infuse pain to my heart,
it does not cease beating,
for you my dear,
for you are my only art,
the heart that makes me cry,
for you are the one that compels me to fly...
Sands of time will not come to a halt,
they will offer me torment in bunches of roses,
they will not refrain in their endeavour,
of bringing you,
not back, not here, not there,
just in my mind...
A lifetime to weep your departure,
a second to behold your constitution,
a minute to see the light,
pervaiding your luster face,
being invaded by a whimming tear,
of love? contempt? regret?
A whole lifetime of torment entwined with tears,
tears from the sky, in grey nights,
shall I cover mine?
hide them in the thickness of night?
throw them all up to the sky?
and on your behalf make angels cry?
Your steps I see on the snow,
the march on, they carry on,
they will not come back,
no matter how much weep,
no matter I beg,
for you are gone,
and I know,
I will see you no more...
Moscow
28.12.11
r
Sunday 25 December 2011
Why
Why do not my tears halt streaming down my worn out face,
why does this pain that has been for a century seems to persist,
why do I keep on attempting being when I do not desire to be,
why does this heart of mine,
flooded by pain and scared with sorrow continues beating,
why?
Why do I have to behold the calammities of the human race,
their contemptuous feelings and their scornful thoughts,
why does my disappointment increases by the day,
leaving my soul in total exhaustion,
submerged in darkness, submerged in oceans of tears,
why?
Why do I behold my dreams dying,
why do i see those around me suffocating in their own pride,
why is it so difficult to encounter purity in others,
why do I feel miserable when learning about this,
might be there something worth saving,
why?
Why are humans so conceited,
and again why do I have to learn about it,
what is there worth to save,
is it just all the same,
why?
Why do I continue in looking for love,
why does it hide from me,
why is my beloved gone from this earth,
why cannot I do the same unnaturaly,
why is it so difficult to live,
when all around seems dead,
why?
Moscow
26.12.11
r
why does this pain that has been for a century seems to persist,
why do I keep on attempting being when I do not desire to be,
why does this heart of mine,
flooded by pain and scared with sorrow continues beating,
why?
Why do I have to behold the calammities of the human race,
their contemptuous feelings and their scornful thoughts,
why does my disappointment increases by the day,
leaving my soul in total exhaustion,
submerged in darkness, submerged in oceans of tears,
why?
Why do I behold my dreams dying,
why do i see those around me suffocating in their own pride,
why is it so difficult to encounter purity in others,
why do I feel miserable when learning about this,
might be there something worth saving,
why?
Why are humans so conceited,
and again why do I have to learn about it,
what is there worth to save,
is it just all the same,
why?
Why do I continue in looking for love,
why does it hide from me,
why is my beloved gone from this earth,
why cannot I do the same unnaturaly,
why is it so difficult to live,
when all around seems dead,
why?
Moscow
26.12.11
r
Rain
The tappering of rain brings again the sorrowful pain,
in this scenery of long-lasting mournful cries,
...they do not cease...
they persist in their endeavour,
oh once again!
in this greish rainy day of mine.
I open my heart to the night,
I beg to her to tear this earthly prison,
that I against fight,
and my cries to the darkened heavens I shout!
for I have renounced to Love,
that one whose corrupted thoughts,
have mercilessly casted me aside.
I beg the rain to cleanse my soul,
for this flesh makes it its hostage,
I beg to her to set this soul of mine free,
free of this decadent realm of scornful beings,
who claim to live in justice,
but all that there is, is simply hell.
Moscow
26.12.11
r
in this scenery of long-lasting mournful cries,
...they do not cease...
they persist in their endeavour,
oh once again!
in this greish rainy day of mine.
I open my heart to the night,
I beg to her to tear this earthly prison,
that I against fight,
and my cries to the darkened heavens I shout!
for I have renounced to Love,
that one whose corrupted thoughts,
have mercilessly casted me aside.
I beg the rain to cleanse my soul,
for this flesh makes it its hostage,
I beg to her to set this soul of mine free,
free of this decadent realm of scornful beings,
who claim to live in justice,
but all that there is, is simply hell.
Moscow
26.12.11
r
Saturday 10 December 2011
Plegaria
Sola aquella criatura se encontraba,
en aquel edificio que solo Dios comandaba,
sus lagrimas en torrentes parecian no terminar,
y su dolor que la abordaba en un sin cesar,
no importaba las voces de aquellos que junto a ella sollosaban,
pues mas su dolor no daba cabida a ningun otro sentimiento mas que su dolor la llenaba...
Aquella pobre criatura en sus rodillas estaba,
clamandole al cielo una verdad que fue antes los hombres injustificada,
que ha de ser de aquella pobre criatura cuyas plegarias no fueron escuchadas?
Una vos en susurro le dijo:
"son tus plegarias en nombre de tu corazon o solo un capricho de tu insolente dominacion?...
Son tus plegarias dulce como la miel para justificarlas ante Dios o son simplemente un egoismo de tu corazon?"
Ella dijo: "mis oraciones no son por religion,
pero por quel amado mio que murio y en fisico me abandono,
pero en vuestras manos dejo vuestro juicio,
porque sois vos en cuya decision mi corazon y mi alma han de sentir conmocion"
Moscow
11.12.11
r
en aquel edificio que solo Dios comandaba,
sus lagrimas en torrentes parecian no terminar,
y su dolor que la abordaba en un sin cesar,
no importaba las voces de aquellos que junto a ella sollosaban,
pues mas su dolor no daba cabida a ningun otro sentimiento mas que su dolor la llenaba...
Aquella pobre criatura en sus rodillas estaba,
clamandole al cielo una verdad que fue antes los hombres injustificada,
que ha de ser de aquella pobre criatura cuyas plegarias no fueron escuchadas?
Una vos en susurro le dijo:
"son tus plegarias en nombre de tu corazon o solo un capricho de tu insolente dominacion?...
Son tus plegarias dulce como la miel para justificarlas ante Dios o son simplemente un egoismo de tu corazon?"
Ella dijo: "mis oraciones no son por religion,
pero por quel amado mio que murio y en fisico me abandono,
pero en vuestras manos dejo vuestro juicio,
porque sois vos en cuya decision mi corazon y mi alma han de sentir conmocion"
Moscow
11.12.11
r
Friday 2 December 2011
Portray
Her pose, so charming in the candle-lit room,
her eyes fixed on her beloved one,
passion, unconcealed love,
her lustre white skin, covered in black silk,
her red hair bathing her back and the line of her smooth shoulders..
sublime she looked, simple... yet adorable...
The candle light dancing at the rhythym of a soft breeze,
the light flickering, giving way to the lines of her body,
which he painted earnestly, passionately,
the strokes of the brush here and there,
the portray of love, the portray of his professed love,
oh the way he adores his godess,
the manner of how things would only revolve around her...
her.... his whole universe...
her.... the beating of his heart
Her lips slightly opened whispered unheard words,
words that merely and simply came from the core of her soul... her heart
"I love you endlessly"
words pouring soflty out of her rosy lips,
yet he understood and no more words were needed,
for they conversed in the language of the eyes and soul...
He continued with his task,
savage brushing of passion, soft ones produced as if touching her,
mild ones as if attempting to capture the essence of her being,
no... no mistakes shall be made...
her portray in full candle light...sublime
her, a godess on earth, his passion and faith...
him, the sweet victim of her...
Moscow
2.12.11
r
her eyes fixed on her beloved one,
passion, unconcealed love,
her lustre white skin, covered in black silk,
her red hair bathing her back and the line of her smooth shoulders..
sublime she looked, simple... yet adorable...
The candle light dancing at the rhythym of a soft breeze,
the light flickering, giving way to the lines of her body,
which he painted earnestly, passionately,
the strokes of the brush here and there,
the portray of love, the portray of his professed love,
oh the way he adores his godess,
the manner of how things would only revolve around her...
her.... his whole universe...
her.... the beating of his heart
Her lips slightly opened whispered unheard words,
words that merely and simply came from the core of her soul... her heart
"I love you endlessly"
words pouring soflty out of her rosy lips,
yet he understood and no more words were needed,
for they conversed in the language of the eyes and soul...
He continued with his task,
savage brushing of passion, soft ones produced as if touching her,
mild ones as if attempting to capture the essence of her being,
no... no mistakes shall be made...
her portray in full candle light...sublime
her, a godess on earth, his passion and faith...
him, the sweet victim of her...
Moscow
2.12.11
r
Tears Under The Moonlight II
Run memories of mine, run!
forsake me from your reckless madness,
he is gone and so has his love,
his music will not be heard anymore,
my tears for him seem endless,
my time without him....eternity...
Our music of melancholic violins under the moonlight is no more!
and I fall on my kness,
crying to the heavens high to bring you back in my life,
this one that has become senseless...futile
for I am still pervaded in his smell,
and I tears encounter the sorrow inside,
so consuming, leaving me torn....devastation
Moscow
2.12.11
forsake me from your reckless madness,
he is gone and so has his love,
his music will not be heard anymore,
my tears for him seem endless,
my time without him....eternity...
Our music of melancholic violins under the moonlight is no more!
and I fall on my kness,
crying to the heavens high to bring you back in my life,
this one that has become senseless...futile
for I am still pervaded in his smell,
and I tears encounter the sorrow inside,
so consuming, leaving me torn....devastation
Moscow
2.12.11
Tears Under the Moonlight
The glittering drops of tears trailing down her face,
the moon casting its pale light upon her shape.
I sense her sorrow, I sense the melancholic music of her sadness,
yet I cannot touch her, I cannot embrace her
for I do not belong to her world anymore,
and I sob in full tears for her, for her loss...
She trudges her way through the grass bathed in cold dew,
I see her most wonderful beauty and the pain she is going through,
I try to call her name, but I refrain,
for her pain is nothing more but the pain of love,
the love for the one she still adores,
that one that once was,
but it is no more.
Moscow
r
2.12.11
the moon casting its pale light upon her shape.
I sense her sorrow, I sense the melancholic music of her sadness,
yet I cannot touch her, I cannot embrace her
for I do not belong to her world anymore,
and I sob in full tears for her, for her loss...
She trudges her way through the grass bathed in cold dew,
I see her most wonderful beauty and the pain she is going through,
I try to call her name, but I refrain,
for her pain is nothing more but the pain of love,
the love for the one she still adores,
that one that once was,
but it is no more.
Moscow
r
2.12.11
Saturday 26 November 2011
Separation
The more I contemplate you,
the more I forsee my leaving,
that inevitable bitter moment,
that shall bathe our hearts with pain,
but do not worry my adored one,
for in years to come our paths will entwine,
and once again we will defeat this demise.
Our minds crave for the knowledge of the world,
crave for the understanding of our nature,
yet our hearts swim in seas of sadness,
not to drown, but to continue without failure,
not to perish, but to diminish our anger.
Apprehension may try to hold upon us,
but we will dive into the notion of roaming different paths bondless,
till our minds reshape into new knowledge,
till our hearts grow fearless of what is to become,
for you and I, my adored one,
will embrace the world,
and with it the love of their hearts and souls.
Fear not the inevitable separation,
for it is for the betterment of our nature that beckons,
to embrace us in its cold call,
in its brink to the pitfall.
Moscow
r
26.11.11
the more I forsee my leaving,
that inevitable bitter moment,
that shall bathe our hearts with pain,
but do not worry my adored one,
for in years to come our paths will entwine,
and once again we will defeat this demise.
Our minds crave for the knowledge of the world,
crave for the understanding of our nature,
yet our hearts swim in seas of sadness,
not to drown, but to continue without failure,
not to perish, but to diminish our anger.
Apprehension may try to hold upon us,
but we will dive into the notion of roaming different paths bondless,
till our minds reshape into new knowledge,
till our hearts grow fearless of what is to become,
for you and I, my adored one,
will embrace the world,
and with it the love of their hearts and souls.
Fear not the inevitable separation,
for it is for the betterment of our nature that beckons,
to embrace us in its cold call,
in its brink to the pitfall.
Moscow
r
26.11.11
Friday 25 November 2011
Their Love
I dry my tears in a hopeless sentiment of indefinite time,
yes........ I have tried, and the lesson is learnt,
yet the result seems the same...once again,
for living through these long years,
have not diminished the pain inside,
and my dearest friend: solitude... refuses to leave me behind...
No...it is not a matter of sadness,
it is a matter of surviving in a world,
that has long ago forsaken my spirit,
and all that once was worth...
no... it is a matter of assimilating the lonely company,
and learn more and more....
I yet adore those of resplandecent auras,
the ones to whom a flower in bloom gives its scent over and over,
yet their satisfaction becomes futile for they do not see further...
what is there left for them?
a life in death? a rose in decay?
But I find myself pervaded in their simplicity,
in how easy their lives come to almost invisibility,
yes, invisibility....
their desire goes there,
to being resigned and consigned to an oblivion of eternity...
Oh, but how much I love them,
even in their rapture they show the wings of their sorrow,
and they let it fly, unnoticed to most,
but not for my eyes that have shown no remorse
for I love their love and their suffering,
yet still they do not know...
The one who once abandoned me may say the same,
for we are still one but still far away...
I know you do...
Moscow
RQ
26.11.11
yes........ I have tried, and the lesson is learnt,
yet the result seems the same...once again,
for living through these long years,
have not diminished the pain inside,
and my dearest friend: solitude... refuses to leave me behind...
No...it is not a matter of sadness,
it is a matter of surviving in a world,
that has long ago forsaken my spirit,
and all that once was worth...
no... it is a matter of assimilating the lonely company,
and learn more and more....
I yet adore those of resplandecent auras,
the ones to whom a flower in bloom gives its scent over and over,
yet their satisfaction becomes futile for they do not see further...
what is there left for them?
a life in death? a rose in decay?
But I find myself pervaded in their simplicity,
in how easy their lives come to almost invisibility,
yes, invisibility....
their desire goes there,
to being resigned and consigned to an oblivion of eternity...
Oh, but how much I love them,
even in their rapture they show the wings of their sorrow,
and they let it fly, unnoticed to most,
but not for my eyes that have shown no remorse
for I love their love and their suffering,
yet still they do not know...
The one who once abandoned me may say the same,
for we are still one but still far away...
I know you do...
Moscow
RQ
26.11.11
Walk the World
No.... I shall not content you with words of wisdom,
they are to be found as you walk in this world,
contemplation? love?
metaphore!
Walk the world and take the ones you shall,
learn from their faults and rest on the result,
you might realise hatred and vengeance are to be gone,
a fledling must occupy the mind not in the world of old,
but learn from it the faults and of the new eras to come...
Do not try to despise me,
such a feeling wastes the soul and the mind,
take all you need to survive,
embrace your solitude my sweet heart,
for by now you know you are the only one
who with yourself walks by.
Put the words into others' mouths,
yet beware they may not comprehend,
for you are not the common one,
onto they dream to embrace,
no....just an enigma you became,
in their dreams and thoughts
and in the time that shall age...
Do not expect me to embrace you in coldness,
for you are to learn how to go through regardless,
and once you have it accomplished,
we shall have a golden conversation,
that will be worth than just regular knowledge...
Moscow
RQ
26.11.11
they are to be found as you walk in this world,
contemplation? love?
metaphore!
Walk the world and take the ones you shall,
learn from their faults and rest on the result,
you might realise hatred and vengeance are to be gone,
a fledling must occupy the mind not in the world of old,
but learn from it the faults and of the new eras to come...
Do not try to despise me,
such a feeling wastes the soul and the mind,
take all you need to survive,
embrace your solitude my sweet heart,
for by now you know you are the only one
who with yourself walks by.
Put the words into others' mouths,
yet beware they may not comprehend,
for you are not the common one,
onto they dream to embrace,
no....just an enigma you became,
in their dreams and thoughts
and in the time that shall age...
Do not expect me to embrace you in coldness,
for you are to learn how to go through regardless,
and once you have it accomplished,
we shall have a golden conversation,
that will be worth than just regular knowledge...
Moscow
RQ
26.11.11
Drink
Many a year I have wondered,
yet your vivid image in my mind remains the same,
that empty stare, that bleeding heart,
Was there any choice?
No, there was not,
and hence, I drank from you, drained you...
Your neck simply rested upon my chest,
have I betrayed my own kind?
your eyes submerged in oblivion of any action,
yet you still profess your empty love,
based on a fantasy...
I let you go, for so it had to be,
a sense of regret invaded me,
leting me know of your pain within,
I disregarded it, I took your energy,
and here I am, staring blankly at the the pale moon.
That kind of mine will not claim my fault,
they have done more and more as all years go,
recklessly, remorsely I shall follow their way,
it is in my nature not to fail,
your memory yet still remains my dear one,
no one can replace that sentiment,
for you my friend, are still pervaded in my whole being.
Moscow
RQ
26.11.11
yet your vivid image in my mind remains the same,
that empty stare, that bleeding heart,
Was there any choice?
No, there was not,
and hence, I drank from you, drained you...
Your neck simply rested upon my chest,
have I betrayed my own kind?
your eyes submerged in oblivion of any action,
yet you still profess your empty love,
based on a fantasy...
I let you go, for so it had to be,
a sense of regret invaded me,
leting me know of your pain within,
I disregarded it, I took your energy,
and here I am, staring blankly at the the pale moon.
That kind of mine will not claim my fault,
they have done more and more as all years go,
recklessly, remorsely I shall follow their way,
it is in my nature not to fail,
your memory yet still remains my dear one,
no one can replace that sentiment,
for you my friend, are still pervaded in my whole being.
Moscow
RQ
26.11.11
Friday 27 May 2011
Ashes
the emptyness of her stare makes me retrieve our memories,
so sweet just as honey,
her pale lustrous face enchains me to her lips,
her charm, so rare, yet adorable
and I give in to her darkened heart, to her darkened embrace...
I will kiss her crimson lips as a tear rolls down her face,
as our dead hearts entwine in a whisper of dead love...
her eyes I'll kiss in the memory of our lives...
I will get lost in her void, swimming desperately to the shore,
her hands will cuddle my face, as I bite off her escence,
and a muffled cry will be heard in this winter night,
and I will swim in her dearkened dreams...
for she is the one I adore....
and we will find each other embraced, entwined....
the sweetness of our romance, decaying yet pure
will outlast or sins,
for we are just one,
my dying love for her will remain,
and all the ashes will embrace us ....
so sweet just as honey,
her pale lustrous face enchains me to her lips,
her charm, so rare, yet adorable
and I give in to her darkened heart, to her darkened embrace...
I will kiss her crimson lips as a tear rolls down her face,
as our dead hearts entwine in a whisper of dead love...
her eyes I'll kiss in the memory of our lives...
I will get lost in her void, swimming desperately to the shore,
her hands will cuddle my face, as I bite off her escence,
and a muffled cry will be heard in this winter night,
and I will swim in her dearkened dreams...
for she is the one I adore....
and we will find each other embraced, entwined....
the sweetness of our romance, decaying yet pure
will outlast or sins,
for we are just one,
my dying love for her will remain,
and all the ashes will embrace us ....
Angel
a dying angel comes upon me,
tears flow in cristal glass that sprinkle my worn out face,
and I just contemplate his suffering reflected in my soul,
that pain of old that outlasts my life and yours,
that leaves behind nothing else but a dead hope...
that dying angel embraces me, and the tears flow
letting me know that this solitude of mine will ever refuse to go,
and my tears entwine with those of his,
producing within me a desire of everlasting sleep,
a desire for my sins to be vanquished deep within...
that dying angel cries desperately for my sins,
and I crumble just like ashes deep within,
and his tears turn to blood, and I simply embrace him,
for his fate is just like that of mine:
dying deep within...
RQ
Moscow
28.5.11
tears flow in cristal glass that sprinkle my worn out face,
and I just contemplate his suffering reflected in my soul,
that pain of old that outlasts my life and yours,
that leaves behind nothing else but a dead hope...
that dying angel embraces me, and the tears flow
letting me know that this solitude of mine will ever refuse to go,
and my tears entwine with those of his,
producing within me a desire of everlasting sleep,
a desire for my sins to be vanquished deep within...
that dying angel cries desperately for my sins,
and I crumble just like ashes deep within,
and his tears turn to blood, and I simply embrace him,
for his fate is just like that of mine:
dying deep within...
RQ
Moscow
28.5.11
Of you there is nothing left
of your face, only ashes and a blury image is left,
of your once welcoming arms, only a cold sensation I have,
my sky has been transformed into a veil of darkened blue,
and endless tears I shed under the pale light of the moon...
My once adored, my once love,
all is dead around and all is see is inexorably lost,
and this scorn within takes it toll,
giving birth to a hatred feeling toward the presence of love.
of your smile, not even a smirk I can recall,
and I am inside hope's crumbling walls,
they become ashes sprinkled with my heart's blood,
and all that endures is this void I simply cannot control.
I raise my voice but only a muffled cry is heard,
only my ghosts seem to take heed upon my desolation,
yet nothing is done to ease this mournful desperation,}
that consumes all inside me with no mercy or hesitation...
of you there seems to be nothing left,
I attempt to retrieve the memories I once treasured,
but only a dark veil is cast upon my vision,
and once again, I swim in darkened waters of a long persistent desolation...
RQ
Moscow
27.5.11
of your once welcoming arms, only a cold sensation I have,
my sky has been transformed into a veil of darkened blue,
and endless tears I shed under the pale light of the moon...
My once adored, my once love,
all is dead around and all is see is inexorably lost,
and this scorn within takes it toll,
giving birth to a hatred feeling toward the presence of love.
of your smile, not even a smirk I can recall,
and I am inside hope's crumbling walls,
they become ashes sprinkled with my heart's blood,
and all that endures is this void I simply cannot control.
I raise my voice but only a muffled cry is heard,
only my ghosts seem to take heed upon my desolation,
yet nothing is done to ease this mournful desperation,}
that consumes all inside me with no mercy or hesitation...
of you there seems to be nothing left,
I attempt to retrieve the memories I once treasured,
but only a dark veil is cast upon my vision,
and once again, I swim in darkened waters of a long persistent desolation...
RQ
Moscow
27.5.11
Friday 1 April 2011
Metal Ghost
Woke up today, worn out by the pain and with eyes bloodshot I try to sway in vain...
and just as I pulled together the pieces of a dead love, I realised her metal ghost got drowned in tears as in forevermore...
I swam the pit of her sorrows filled up in disgrace,
her estatic figure still sublime yet motionless...
and I just wandered... stranded...drifting away...
her emotions compounded in broken pieces of stained glass which I tried to unite with those of mine...futile...
My dear one has taken her path away from that of mine,
I behold her wanned complexion and tears of bitterness I cry...
tears of glass, and there is no her by my side.
I woke up today within her ghost, fading away,
wilting as a rose in silver cold,
and my melodies are unrythmical for her coldness hold a grip upon them, leaving me vexed and once again dead...
My cold tears flow,
her silver ghost I behold
Shake off this estatic motion,
for her I have no more devotion
She drowned in a pit of tears and sorrow,
the only way she knew would bear her ghost...so hollowed
and her muffled cries I heard as time sank into her,
but what on earth is worth on this earth?
just tears and pain stuffed in her vase-heart-shapped...
My cold tears flow,
her silver ghost I behold
Shake off this estatic motion,
for her I have no more devotion
rq
moscow
01.04.11
and just as I pulled together the pieces of a dead love, I realised her metal ghost got drowned in tears as in forevermore...
I swam the pit of her sorrows filled up in disgrace,
her estatic figure still sublime yet motionless...
and I just wandered... stranded...drifting away...
her emotions compounded in broken pieces of stained glass which I tried to unite with those of mine...futile...
My dear one has taken her path away from that of mine,
I behold her wanned complexion and tears of bitterness I cry...
tears of glass, and there is no her by my side.
I woke up today within her ghost, fading away,
wilting as a rose in silver cold,
and my melodies are unrythmical for her coldness hold a grip upon them, leaving me vexed and once again dead...
My cold tears flow,
her silver ghost I behold
Shake off this estatic motion,
for her I have no more devotion
She drowned in a pit of tears and sorrow,
the only way she knew would bear her ghost...so hollowed
and her muffled cries I heard as time sank into her,
but what on earth is worth on this earth?
just tears and pain stuffed in her vase-heart-shapped...
My cold tears flow,
her silver ghost I behold
Shake off this estatic motion,
for her I have no more devotion
rq
moscow
01.04.11
Thursday 31 March 2011
Dying Dreams
As I contemplate the inmensity of a crying sunset I realise about my dwindling dreams. The ones I once nourished and kept to blosom and was even careful not to harm them. These dreams eventualy drowned into the mixture of colours of dead thoughts, into the oblivioness of love, into the void of forgetfulness, they were simply victims...
The wilting beams of sunlight bathe my face, caressing me, as if giving consolation for my loss or at least to acknowledge my presence. I sense them on my skin, I also sense their withering and their faltering at keeping on shining. Tired of continuing, they just surrender to the mighty darkness which has stabbed the sun to death.
There is almost nothing to retrieve for there is only a bunch of ashes scattered around which are swiftly carried away by a whirlwind that whispers in the name of forgetfulness a victory of untold scorn...
rq
moscow
31.03.11
The wilting beams of sunlight bathe my face, caressing me, as if giving consolation for my loss or at least to acknowledge my presence. I sense them on my skin, I also sense their withering and their faltering at keeping on shining. Tired of continuing, they just surrender to the mighty darkness which has stabbed the sun to death.
There is almost nothing to retrieve for there is only a bunch of ashes scattered around which are swiftly carried away by a whirlwind that whispers in the name of forgetfulness a victory of untold scorn...
rq
moscow
31.03.11
Wednesday 30 March 2011
A Promise... A Desire
And you said the sun would shine again,
yet only shadows I contemplate,
all in all pervading the corners of your self,
filling you up with the waters of sadness and despair...
What is there for us to behold when all is gone?
only the ashes of suffering buried in oblivion?
Oh my decadent angel,
shed your tears now,
for all that there is will be just a fading vow...
You said once again that torment will redeem us,
yet it has tighten its grip on us,
suffocating the beating, tearing us part,
flooding our eyes and inflicting pain in our scars...
Is there a reason for this long waiting?
the sands of time seem relentless,
unable to let us pass by to the other side,
and in a desperate fit we only desire to be no more blind...
Pain is love, suffering is rapture,
shall we contemplate things this way?
and drink from their nectar so we do not feel more pain?
oh my decadent angel,
haste your way and let us not stay,
for this realm hurts us within,
and we desire to our hearts in oblivion bleed...
rq
moscow
31.3.11
yet only shadows I contemplate,
all in all pervading the corners of your self,
filling you up with the waters of sadness and despair...
What is there for us to behold when all is gone?
only the ashes of suffering buried in oblivion?
Oh my decadent angel,
shed your tears now,
for all that there is will be just a fading vow...
You said once again that torment will redeem us,
yet it has tighten its grip on us,
suffocating the beating, tearing us part,
flooding our eyes and inflicting pain in our scars...
Is there a reason for this long waiting?
the sands of time seem relentless,
unable to let us pass by to the other side,
and in a desperate fit we only desire to be no more blind...
Pain is love, suffering is rapture,
shall we contemplate things this way?
and drink from their nectar so we do not feel more pain?
oh my decadent angel,
haste your way and let us not stay,
for this realm hurts us within,
and we desire to our hearts in oblivion bleed...
rq
moscow
31.3.11
Friday 14 January 2011
Oh Sorrow
A little sorrow mingles with the heart and makes it bleed,
just right under a promise that everything will be for the betterment of the mind,
a mind that every single one of us defends tirelessly, in order for some day to set it free,
but my mind wonders and embraces that sorrow that refuses to hide,
for there must be rapture to be unfolded in these long nights, that simply are neverending.
Many dare to condemn life and cast their fists to the sky,
nothing but just a reaction of the blind, who cannot see any reason why,
and sorrow cries, for she is a right part of every single life,
because from her all true happiness and rapture shall born and rise,
and from fire everything shall be made anew and hence no more demise.
Sorrow that entwines her tears with that of ours,
let them flow unaware of the world and the time that devours,
for this one has no mercy upon her victims, not even in the last hour,
and clad in ebony holds us tight in a cold embrace,
making sorrow say on our behalf a last pray.
Rapture does not let her face show without the company of suffering and sorrow,
she cannot be alone for they belong to one another in their own harrow,
it would be folly to recognise them separately,
for they taunt our souls coarsely,
thus let them come and be overcome all in one,
and undress this life of ours from her ghastly dreary.
RQ
Moscow
06.01.11
just right under a promise that everything will be for the betterment of the mind,
a mind that every single one of us defends tirelessly, in order for some day to set it free,
but my mind wonders and embraces that sorrow that refuses to hide,
for there must be rapture to be unfolded in these long nights, that simply are neverending.
Many dare to condemn life and cast their fists to the sky,
nothing but just a reaction of the blind, who cannot see any reason why,
and sorrow cries, for she is a right part of every single life,
because from her all true happiness and rapture shall born and rise,
and from fire everything shall be made anew and hence no more demise.
Sorrow that entwines her tears with that of ours,
let them flow unaware of the world and the time that devours,
for this one has no mercy upon her victims, not even in the last hour,
and clad in ebony holds us tight in a cold embrace,
making sorrow say on our behalf a last pray.
Rapture does not let her face show without the company of suffering and sorrow,
she cannot be alone for they belong to one another in their own harrow,
it would be folly to recognise them separately,
for they taunt our souls coarsely,
thus let them come and be overcome all in one,
and undress this life of ours from her ghastly dreary.
RQ
Moscow
06.01.11
A Melody, A Soul And A Goblet
This melody of mine gives me away,
every single note makes my heart bleed in pain,
this old piano does not conceal me,
and it brings me to a dreary dreaming,
of harrowful feelings that refuse to move away.
My fingers slide up and down the keys,
and with them bunches of thornful memories which won’t flee,
for they have resided permanently within me,
and they make me stand in front of your ghost,
beholding a beauty of long time ago gone.
My mind mounts itself in waves of tears,
tears accompanied with a wailing moon in fear,
yet the melody will not stop embracing my soul,
such egoist melody that pierces my soul in utter awe,
for this one has been in turmoil ever since you gone.
What is there left for this soul of mine,
whose goblet is full to the brim with the world’s lies,
and encounters that sorrow has been side by side,
tormenting this existence with bitter cries,
that fill the nights of rainy times.
Sorrow is the melody that plays along with me tonight,
and opens my heart to the dark sky,
that sky that is overhung with a pale moon that seems to cry,
gilded with silver tears that she casts away tonight,
for she is also my silent witness of this endeavour that I call life.
An echo of a long time gone love is swiftly heard,
and it carries that reminiscence of joy but nothing else,
but what a cumbersome task it seems to be,
for it is dead and is bound to be forgotten and into oblivion it shall be free,
and within it fly away tirelessly and reach the embrace of eternity.
This saddened melody starks my soul,
and the raiment is nothing else but this relentless sorrow of old,
who raises its glass with a callous promise,
which I have heard and realised that that promise is lonely,
but then I know I shall not judge,
and all alone I shall drink from my empty goblet.
RQ, Moscow, 5.1.11
every single note makes my heart bleed in pain,
this old piano does not conceal me,
and it brings me to a dreary dreaming,
of harrowful feelings that refuse to move away.
My fingers slide up and down the keys,
and with them bunches of thornful memories which won’t flee,
for they have resided permanently within me,
and they make me stand in front of your ghost,
beholding a beauty of long time ago gone.
My mind mounts itself in waves of tears,
tears accompanied with a wailing moon in fear,
yet the melody will not stop embracing my soul,
such egoist melody that pierces my soul in utter awe,
for this one has been in turmoil ever since you gone.
What is there left for this soul of mine,
whose goblet is full to the brim with the world’s lies,
and encounters that sorrow has been side by side,
tormenting this existence with bitter cries,
that fill the nights of rainy times.
Sorrow is the melody that plays along with me tonight,
and opens my heart to the dark sky,
that sky that is overhung with a pale moon that seems to cry,
gilded with silver tears that she casts away tonight,
for she is also my silent witness of this endeavour that I call life.
An echo of a long time gone love is swiftly heard,
and it carries that reminiscence of joy but nothing else,
but what a cumbersome task it seems to be,
for it is dead and is bound to be forgotten and into oblivion it shall be free,
and within it fly away tirelessly and reach the embrace of eternity.
This saddened melody starks my soul,
and the raiment is nothing else but this relentless sorrow of old,
who raises its glass with a callous promise,
which I have heard and realised that that promise is lonely,
but then I know I shall not judge,
and all alone I shall drink from my empty goblet.
RQ, Moscow, 5.1.11
Requiem
What is all the art in the world to fill my soul?
what is all the knowledge in the world to fill my mind?
what is there of myself walking under the moon with a troubled heart and unheard cries?
knowledge, art and all pleasantries,
all of them as feasible, and oh, how ridiculous of me to pretend your kiss…
Embracing you, quenching my thirst in you,
Oh such a painful endeavor for my heart to withstand….
For even my wits they fail me and I see they are embraced by hopelessness,
and this bitter hopelessness takes my heart for a dance,
and dance and dance, under the melody of a Requiem,
while the heart weeps inconsolably,
and for a halt of the suffering this heart is begging,
Why should my heart ask for such a terrible thing?
for It has to weep, mourn and bleed
and embrace the sorrow and all its deeds!
The sorrow is the art of the heart,
and tears are the stars that shine in the soul,
and my being nowhere to be found next to my sweet love,
is the torment of them all,
and hence all my constitution trembles in desperation,
acknowledging the presence of Love that simply runs away from my affection…
and many a questions are born, and burnt in fire,
and their ashes are blown away by the cold wind that with a dagger my heart slashes…
I have looked upon Love and this has shown me pure scorn,
and I have pervaded myself in her knowledge,
but just as futile my deeds were, for she disregarded me in utter contempt,
and thus all the world loses its magnificence before my eyes,
leaving just a trail of an almost forgotten purpose,
leaving a choir of unheard cries.
The whole world withers as I sing and dance in pain,
a melody that caresses me once and again,
and the only purpose now is that of an old dream,
that shapes itself in front of me as a red sunset,
bathing me in red light, permitting me to see her one more time,
out of selfishness, eager to embrace me…tightly.
Oh Death of mine!
you have finally come to rescue the creature you so much adore,
the creature that you have nourished many nights of old,
and whose tears you have guarded as a treasure that should not be thrown,
Oh Death of mine, embrace me and use thy power to vanquish my suffering,
and permit me to behold the scorn of Love once more,
and thence I shall wave to her my last farewell,
and with different eyes I shall see her as she vanishes,
Oh Love what have you done to this heart of mine?,
this heart of mine that beholds you withering away before my eyes…
Oh Death, you shall be part of this final Art,
let this saddened Requiem be a hymn for a desperate soul,
who can withstand no more the cruelties of the world ,
the contempt of Love.
I beg of you hold my final breath, and with thy cold dagger put my soul to rest,
for the one I adored was my last wish on earth, oh….
the one I desired, the one I will never get.
RQ
Moscow
8.1.11
what is all the knowledge in the world to fill my mind?
what is there of myself walking under the moon with a troubled heart and unheard cries?
knowledge, art and all pleasantries,
all of them as feasible, and oh, how ridiculous of me to pretend your kiss…
Embracing you, quenching my thirst in you,
Oh such a painful endeavor for my heart to withstand….
For even my wits they fail me and I see they are embraced by hopelessness,
and this bitter hopelessness takes my heart for a dance,
and dance and dance, under the melody of a Requiem,
while the heart weeps inconsolably,
and for a halt of the suffering this heart is begging,
Why should my heart ask for such a terrible thing?
for It has to weep, mourn and bleed
and embrace the sorrow and all its deeds!
The sorrow is the art of the heart,
and tears are the stars that shine in the soul,
and my being nowhere to be found next to my sweet love,
is the torment of them all,
and hence all my constitution trembles in desperation,
acknowledging the presence of Love that simply runs away from my affection…
and many a questions are born, and burnt in fire,
and their ashes are blown away by the cold wind that with a dagger my heart slashes…
I have looked upon Love and this has shown me pure scorn,
and I have pervaded myself in her knowledge,
but just as futile my deeds were, for she disregarded me in utter contempt,
and thus all the world loses its magnificence before my eyes,
leaving just a trail of an almost forgotten purpose,
leaving a choir of unheard cries.
The whole world withers as I sing and dance in pain,
a melody that caresses me once and again,
and the only purpose now is that of an old dream,
that shapes itself in front of me as a red sunset,
bathing me in red light, permitting me to see her one more time,
out of selfishness, eager to embrace me…tightly.
Oh Death of mine!
you have finally come to rescue the creature you so much adore,
the creature that you have nourished many nights of old,
and whose tears you have guarded as a treasure that should not be thrown,
Oh Death of mine, embrace me and use thy power to vanquish my suffering,
and permit me to behold the scorn of Love once more,
and thence I shall wave to her my last farewell,
and with different eyes I shall see her as she vanishes,
Oh Love what have you done to this heart of mine?,
this heart of mine that beholds you withering away before my eyes…
Oh Death, you shall be part of this final Art,
let this saddened Requiem be a hymn for a desperate soul,
who can withstand no more the cruelties of the world ,
the contempt of Love.
I beg of you hold my final breath, and with thy cold dagger put my soul to rest,
for the one I adored was my last wish on earth, oh….
the one I desired, the one I will never get.
RQ
Moscow
8.1.11
The Nightingale and I (not corrected version)
I:
The nightingale flies honoring the sunset,
flirting with the last beams of light,
it hides not its sentiments from such a star and its magnificence,
yet as I contemplate the scene,
I find myself saying: why is the nightingale in love so utterly?
Nightingale:
The sunset is breathing its final breath,
it will die yes, but it will be born again on the morrow,
and I will fly again happily in its honour
and sing melodies of joy and in the wind slide,
and all my songs will be sung bathed in the sun’s light.
I:
It will be born again on the morrow,
and your felicity will find no match but the sun’s
and in the sun’s warmth there will be no sorrow,
for the day will be long and celebration will call,
and then the evening will come along, bringing a burden so cumbersome.
Nightingale:
Cumbersome is the burden of a heart pervaded in hopelessness,
my heart is a small one but the hope of the sun’s rebirth widens it,
I shed tears when the sun dies, yes, and my little soul embraces suffering,
and I take heed of these sentiments,
for I also know I have to taste the flavour of predicament.
I:
Predicament is a horrid word and one experiences an awful sentiment,
why would you want it to invade your heart and soul?,
do not you think life shall offer you something better and not this ghastly mourn?
you dance and sing and fly joyfully during the day,
and when the evening comes and the sun is no more, tears of sorrow your heart invade.
Nightingale:
Can not you see my heart is to the brim of hope?
my suffering is compensated by the hope on the sun’s reborn,
and I do not scorn suffering, for I have realised I have to embrace it,
just as I embrace the hope for the born of my beloved sun,
whose rays fill me with utter rapture every single day I live on.
RQ. Moscow. 8.1.11
The nightingale flies honoring the sunset,
flirting with the last beams of light,
it hides not its sentiments from such a star and its magnificence,
yet as I contemplate the scene,
I find myself saying: why is the nightingale in love so utterly?
Nightingale:
The sunset is breathing its final breath,
it will die yes, but it will be born again on the morrow,
and I will fly again happily in its honour
and sing melodies of joy and in the wind slide,
and all my songs will be sung bathed in the sun’s light.
I:
It will be born again on the morrow,
and your felicity will find no match but the sun’s
and in the sun’s warmth there will be no sorrow,
for the day will be long and celebration will call,
and then the evening will come along, bringing a burden so cumbersome.
Nightingale:
Cumbersome is the burden of a heart pervaded in hopelessness,
my heart is a small one but the hope of the sun’s rebirth widens it,
I shed tears when the sun dies, yes, and my little soul embraces suffering,
and I take heed of these sentiments,
for I also know I have to taste the flavour of predicament.
I:
Predicament is a horrid word and one experiences an awful sentiment,
why would you want it to invade your heart and soul?,
do not you think life shall offer you something better and not this ghastly mourn?
you dance and sing and fly joyfully during the day,
and when the evening comes and the sun is no more, tears of sorrow your heart invade.
Nightingale:
Can not you see my heart is to the brim of hope?
my suffering is compensated by the hope on the sun’s reborn,
and I do not scorn suffering, for I have realised I have to embrace it,
just as I embrace the hope for the born of my beloved sun,
whose rays fill me with utter rapture every single day I live on.
RQ. Moscow. 8.1.11
The Nightingale and I
I:
The nightingale flies honoring the sunset,
flirting with the last beams of light,
it hides not its sentiments from such a star and its magnificence,
yet as I contemplate the scene,
I find myself saying: why is the nightingale in love so utterly?
Nightingale:
The sunset is breathing its final breath,
it will die yes, but it will be born again on the morrow,
and I will fly again happily in its honour
and sing melodies of joy and in the wind slide,
and all my songs will be sung bathed in the sun’s light.
I:
It will be born again on the morrow,
and your felicity will find no match but the sun’s
and in the sun’s warmth there will be no sorrow,
for the day will be long and celebration will call,
and then the evening will come along, bringing a burden so cumbersome.
Nightingale:
Cumbersome is the burden of a heart pervaded in hopelessness,
my heart is a small one but the hope of the sun’s rebirth widens it,
I shed tears when the sun dies, yes, and my little soul embraces suffering,
and I take heed of these sentiments,
for I also know I have to taste the flavour of predicament.
I:
Predicament is a horrid word and one experiences an awful sentiment,
why would you want it to invade your heart and soul?,
do not you think life shall offer you something better and not this ghastly mourn?
you dance and sing and fly joyfully during the day,
and when the evening comes and the sun is no more, tears of sorrow your heart invade.
Nightingale:
Can not you see my heart is to the brim of hope?
my suffering is compensated by the hope on the sun’s reborn,
and I do not scorn suffering, for I have realised I have to embrace it,
just as I embrace the hope for the born of my beloved sun,
whose rays fill me with utter rapture every single day I live on.
RQ. Moscow. 8.1.11
The nightingale flies honoring the sunset,
flirting with the last beams of light,
it hides not its sentiments from such a star and its magnificence,
yet as I contemplate the scene,
I find myself saying: why is the nightingale in love so utterly?
Nightingale:
The sunset is breathing its final breath,
it will die yes, but it will be born again on the morrow,
and I will fly again happily in its honour
and sing melodies of joy and in the wind slide,
and all my songs will be sung bathed in the sun’s light.
I:
It will be born again on the morrow,
and your felicity will find no match but the sun’s
and in the sun’s warmth there will be no sorrow,
for the day will be long and celebration will call,
and then the evening will come along, bringing a burden so cumbersome.
Nightingale:
Cumbersome is the burden of a heart pervaded in hopelessness,
my heart is a small one but the hope of the sun’s rebirth widens it,
I shed tears when the sun dies, yes, and my little soul embraces suffering,
and I take heed of these sentiments,
for I also know I have to taste the flavour of predicament.
I:
Predicament is a horrid word and one experiences an awful sentiment,
why would you want it to invade your heart and soul?,
do not you think life shall offer you something better and not this ghastly mourn?
you dance and sing and fly joyfully during the day,
and when the evening comes and the sun is no more, tears of sorrow your heart invade.
Nightingale:
Can not you see my heart is to the brim of hope?
my suffering is compensated by the hope on the sun’s reborn,
and I do not scorn suffering, for I have realised I have to embrace it,
just as I embrace the hope for the born of my beloved sun,
whose rays fill me with utter rapture every single day I live on.
RQ. Moscow. 8.1.11
Saturday 8 January 2011
A Melody, A Soul And A Goblet (not corrected version)
This melody of mine gives me away,
every single note s makes my heart bleed in pain,
this old piano does not conceal me,
and it brings me to a dreary dreaming,
of harrowful feelings that refuse to move away.
My fingers slide up and down the keys,
and with them bunches of thornful memories which won’t flee,
for they have resided permanently within me,
and they make me stand in front of your ghost,
beholding a beauty long time ago gone.
My mind mounts itself in waves of tears,
tears accompanied with a wailing moon in fear,
yet the melody will not stop embracing my soul,
such egoist melody that pierces my soul in utter awe,
for this one has been in turmoil ever since you gone.
What is there left for this soul of mine,
whose goblet is full to the brim with the world’s lies,
and encounters that sorrow has been side by side,
tormenting this existence with bitter cries,
that fill the nights of rainy times.
Sorrow is the melody that plays along with me tonight,
and opens my heart to the dark sky,
that sky that is overhung with a pale moon that seems to cry,
gilded with silver tears that she casts away tonight,
for she is also my silent witness of this endeavour that I call life.
An echo of a long time gone love is swiftly heard,
and it carries that reminiscence of joy but nothing else,
but what a cumbersome task it seems to be,
for it is dead and is bound to be forgotten and into oblivion it shall be free,
and within it fly away tirelessly and reach the embrace of eternity.
This saddened melody starks my soul,
and the raiment is nothing else but this relentless sorrow of old,
who raises its glass with a callous promise,
which I have heard and realised that promise is lonely,
but then I know I shall not judge and drink from my empty goblet.
RQ, Moscow, 5.1.11
every single note s makes my heart bleed in pain,
this old piano does not conceal me,
and it brings me to a dreary dreaming,
of harrowful feelings that refuse to move away.
My fingers slide up and down the keys,
and with them bunches of thornful memories which won’t flee,
for they have resided permanently within me,
and they make me stand in front of your ghost,
beholding a beauty long time ago gone.
My mind mounts itself in waves of tears,
tears accompanied with a wailing moon in fear,
yet the melody will not stop embracing my soul,
such egoist melody that pierces my soul in utter awe,
for this one has been in turmoil ever since you gone.
What is there left for this soul of mine,
whose goblet is full to the brim with the world’s lies,
and encounters that sorrow has been side by side,
tormenting this existence with bitter cries,
that fill the nights of rainy times.
Sorrow is the melody that plays along with me tonight,
and opens my heart to the dark sky,
that sky that is overhung with a pale moon that seems to cry,
gilded with silver tears that she casts away tonight,
for she is also my silent witness of this endeavour that I call life.
An echo of a long time gone love is swiftly heard,
and it carries that reminiscence of joy but nothing else,
but what a cumbersome task it seems to be,
for it is dead and is bound to be forgotten and into oblivion it shall be free,
and within it fly away tirelessly and reach the embrace of eternity.
This saddened melody starks my soul,
and the raiment is nothing else but this relentless sorrow of old,
who raises its glass with a callous promise,
which I have heard and realised that promise is lonely,
but then I know I shall not judge and drink from my empty goblet.
RQ, Moscow, 5.1.11
Saturday 6 November 2010
Transformed
I open the door, almost crumbling, like a dying dream,
my heart almost in agony,
just right as in utter apprehension, it tries to give in,
and I sense my pulse trembling…. my wits faltering…. my mind running away from logical reaction,
and as I enter the cold doomy room I see it is all pervaded in ghoul.
I see her… just there, white robes …my beloved one,
all transformed, all gone but then again here into someone new,
her lustre face showing beauty, almost angelical….
I reach to caress her lips, red as crimson, just as mine….
Open your eyes my love….
Two eyeballs open up to contemplate my mortfied face,
what has occured to her? She beholds me with a dead stare,
eyes darkened, a whole black pit in them so full of contempt,
she tries to reach me and I only want to escape.
This mortal one is not my beloved one,
her constitution has fade into something I simply am not table to recognise,
her beauty still remains, her hair curled in oceans of rain,
But she is someone else….
She stands up on her feet and then on her back on all four,
What on earth has on her fallen upon?!
I dare not to say, I dare not to comprehend,
she is my beloved one who has seemed to abandon herself for something new,
something I still try to view,
and yet I cannot see through,
yet all I see is her darkened light,
that light so mesmerising,
that leaves me swaying in a melody that is undying.
Her fingernails I feel upong my flesh,
carving all her pain just right as it is,
no one is witness of what I am hence to tell,
just me and her, the only one I really care,
the one I shall then again posses,
for I am into her,
for I reside within her,
just myself and no one else.
RQ
Moscow
6/11/10
my heart almost in agony,
just right as in utter apprehension, it tries to give in,
and I sense my pulse trembling…. my wits faltering…. my mind running away from logical reaction,
and as I enter the cold doomy room I see it is all pervaded in ghoul.
I see her… just there, white robes …my beloved one,
all transformed, all gone but then again here into someone new,
her lustre face showing beauty, almost angelical….
I reach to caress her lips, red as crimson, just as mine….
Open your eyes my love….
Two eyeballs open up to contemplate my mortfied face,
what has occured to her? She beholds me with a dead stare,
eyes darkened, a whole black pit in them so full of contempt,
she tries to reach me and I only want to escape.
This mortal one is not my beloved one,
her constitution has fade into something I simply am not table to recognise,
her beauty still remains, her hair curled in oceans of rain,
But she is someone else….
She stands up on her feet and then on her back on all four,
What on earth has on her fallen upon?!
I dare not to say, I dare not to comprehend,
she is my beloved one who has seemed to abandon herself for something new,
something I still try to view,
and yet I cannot see through,
yet all I see is her darkened light,
that light so mesmerising,
that leaves me swaying in a melody that is undying.
Her fingernails I feel upong my flesh,
carving all her pain just right as it is,
no one is witness of what I am hence to tell,
just me and her, the only one I really care,
the one I shall then again posses,
for I am into her,
for I reside within her,
just myself and no one else.
RQ
Moscow
6/11/10
Friday 29 October 2010
The Guardian
There comes the guardian of my desperation and affliction,
the guardian of my final step that I soon will take in this world,
the world that consumes miserably my ashes and what is left of me,
and leaves me shreded just as in times of old, just the way it has been.
The jingling of the keys around his belt chime in my mind like a bell´s toll for death…
my own death... whose shadow I have seen pervading my room, beckoning me,
offering me its eternal embrace, and I just resist the temptation, though I would dare.
My guardian unlocks the bolt of my cell, his black robes caressing the floor,
his gentle pace moves me to the point of almost embracing him, of almost giving in…
and his stare infuses both compassion and hatred to the poor devils like me,
who have fallen from grace and shall be taken to a final breath,
to the final step... to the gallows where angels can be seen with a burning hallo.
There comes the guardian of the misery that condems me,
throwing me to the horrorful pit of disgrace,
where screams of desperation and sorrowful pain are constantly heard,
he takes me and I feel his cold touch on my skin, his rough touch that I take in.
Finish this misery once and for all and do not bother about the last rites for I am a fallen one,
provide me though with a last glance of your shadowy expression,
they are just as sweet as this pain I am embracing,
as I behold this fate of mine that slowly dims its own light.
There comes the final struck that thwarts my agonising life,
that final struck that soothes the pain of flesh and soul inside,
the one with absolute mercy and compassion,
for this terrible aching life shall come to an end,
and no remmnants shall be left and ashes shall not be claimed!
RQ
Moscow
29/10/10
the guardian of my final step that I soon will take in this world,
the world that consumes miserably my ashes and what is left of me,
and leaves me shreded just as in times of old, just the way it has been.
The jingling of the keys around his belt chime in my mind like a bell´s toll for death…
my own death... whose shadow I have seen pervading my room, beckoning me,
offering me its eternal embrace, and I just resist the temptation, though I would dare.
My guardian unlocks the bolt of my cell, his black robes caressing the floor,
his gentle pace moves me to the point of almost embracing him, of almost giving in…
and his stare infuses both compassion and hatred to the poor devils like me,
who have fallen from grace and shall be taken to a final breath,
to the final step... to the gallows where angels can be seen with a burning hallo.
There comes the guardian of the misery that condems me,
throwing me to the horrorful pit of disgrace,
where screams of desperation and sorrowful pain are constantly heard,
he takes me and I feel his cold touch on my skin, his rough touch that I take in.
Finish this misery once and for all and do not bother about the last rites for I am a fallen one,
provide me though with a last glance of your shadowy expression,
they are just as sweet as this pain I am embracing,
as I behold this fate of mine that slowly dims its own light.
There comes the final struck that thwarts my agonising life,
that final struck that soothes the pain of flesh and soul inside,
the one with absolute mercy and compassion,
for this terrible aching life shall come to an end,
and no remmnants shall be left and ashes shall not be claimed!
RQ
Moscow
29/10/10
Tuesday 26 October 2010
White Place
There is this place that covers her mind in white sheets of illusions,
white it is as if the prelude of a dream, her mind comes at ease, no more words.
A place to find the ultimate inner liberty she craved all her life,
the sentiment she has become to be a part of, both now entwined,
and as she contemplates the new dream in utter awe,
a rebel tear finds its way through her cheek,
and she senses the dying of a feeling within,
a feeling that has been in stupor, a feeling which has been muffled.
There is this place that soothes her pain inside,
and from which her heart simply does not hide,
this place that seems to bloom in every corner as if coming alive,
and she just gives in to this notion of tranquility,
and all earthly bounds she throws off, for there is no other place to which she desires to go.
The sweet-honey melody that plays is as if that of angels,
the one that has the power to tranquil a desperate soul,
a torn-to-pieces heart,
and provides the elixir of tranquility,
the one that she has been dreading for years.
There is this place, white in all its constitution, almost graceful,
this place that stirs her emotions which springs in torrents of astonishment and love,
this place to which she has just given in without a second thought,
she is mesmerized by the incantation she has created and she embraces it,
no more suffering she whispers to herself, no more a dying love, or a dying hope.
She extends her arms along the white thick walls,
tears flowing, submerged in her own world where her soul is admitted,
she dances with arms wide open inside the white room, giving way to felicity,
and then a cold and tight grip embraces her body, she still smiles,
white shades come alive, as if angels were around her, staring...
and those white clad beings just finally put her down…
she sleeps…
RQ
Moscow
27/10/10
white it is as if the prelude of a dream, her mind comes at ease, no more words.
A place to find the ultimate inner liberty she craved all her life,
the sentiment she has become to be a part of, both now entwined,
and as she contemplates the new dream in utter awe,
a rebel tear finds its way through her cheek,
and she senses the dying of a feeling within,
a feeling that has been in stupor, a feeling which has been muffled.
There is this place that soothes her pain inside,
and from which her heart simply does not hide,
this place that seems to bloom in every corner as if coming alive,
and she just gives in to this notion of tranquility,
and all earthly bounds she throws off, for there is no other place to which she desires to go.
The sweet-honey melody that plays is as if that of angels,
the one that has the power to tranquil a desperate soul,
a torn-to-pieces heart,
and provides the elixir of tranquility,
the one that she has been dreading for years.
There is this place, white in all its constitution, almost graceful,
this place that stirs her emotions which springs in torrents of astonishment and love,
this place to which she has just given in without a second thought,
she is mesmerized by the incantation she has created and she embraces it,
no more suffering she whispers to herself, no more a dying love, or a dying hope.
She extends her arms along the white thick walls,
tears flowing, submerged in her own world where her soul is admitted,
she dances with arms wide open inside the white room, giving way to felicity,
and then a cold and tight grip embraces her body, she still smiles,
white shades come alive, as if angels were around her, staring...
and those white clad beings just finally put her down…
she sleeps…
RQ
Moscow
27/10/10
Monday 25 October 2010
I Fly
I let fly my mind to reach a little peace,
and I send myself in a flight with no limits.
Lights in the sky let themselves be seen,
and the smooth wind caresses my skin.
and peace so weak approaches me,
and seemed to pass away but I do not let myself fall,
and drops of tears cross my cheeks.
So irremediable is this pain that my heart seems not to hold,
but even though I do not stop flying.
I fly fast to forget,
I fly fast not to feel as much,
and I continue flying because I no longer want to be.
My heart bleeds of this pain,
and the time passes but as if it did not exist,
I let my mind fly so it no longer to feels this exhausting sentiment,
a feeling of melancholy mixed with sadness,
that punishes me over and over again without having compassion,
over and over again my soul whips,
and over and over again my tears escape.
I wake up from the stupor,
and cold tears fall unhalted as a torrent that I cannot avoid.
My bloodshot eyes let see a vivid green color,
and the sadness seemes to be carved in these,
that sadness that already feeds upon the remnants of my soul,
ruthless, sublime, horrible and beautiful,
that makes my heart beat to the compass of the music of the pain,
with its slow and melancholic melodies,
that take pieces of life and sends them to the heavens and oblivion.
And howls of pain I send to the heavens bathed in stars,
but these are not listened to.
I behold my hands full of tears and my heart beat quickenes,
because time passes by slowly and the pain worsens,
leaving lamentable trails as it passes by,
leaving me in the ground,
trying to drown a feeling that is engraved with fire in my heart,
trying to find the reason, trying to find peace,
and I realize that is not what I want to find,
because my heart is given to that melancholy so mine,
to that pain so mine,
to that feeling so human that still resides in me,
perhaps the only human thing in me…
the only truth that there is in my heart covered with blood and sadness
the only truth…
I submerge in the stupor and fly, fly,
my extended arms cut the wind,
and I close my eyes and my pain accompanies me,
so faithful and permanent,
and despite that I do not stop flying,
I fly fast to forget,
I fly fast not to feel so much,
and I continue flying because I no longer want to be.
RQ
Moscow
(Translation)
and I send myself in a flight with no limits.
Lights in the sky let themselves be seen,
and the smooth wind caresses my skin.
and peace so weak approaches me,
and seemed to pass away but I do not let myself fall,
and drops of tears cross my cheeks.
So irremediable is this pain that my heart seems not to hold,
but even though I do not stop flying.
I fly fast to forget,
I fly fast not to feel as much,
and I continue flying because I no longer want to be.
My heart bleeds of this pain,
and the time passes but as if it did not exist,
I let my mind fly so it no longer to feels this exhausting sentiment,
a feeling of melancholy mixed with sadness,
that punishes me over and over again without having compassion,
over and over again my soul whips,
and over and over again my tears escape.
I wake up from the stupor,
and cold tears fall unhalted as a torrent that I cannot avoid.
My bloodshot eyes let see a vivid green color,
and the sadness seemes to be carved in these,
that sadness that already feeds upon the remnants of my soul,
ruthless, sublime, horrible and beautiful,
that makes my heart beat to the compass of the music of the pain,
with its slow and melancholic melodies,
that take pieces of life and sends them to the heavens and oblivion.
And howls of pain I send to the heavens bathed in stars,
but these are not listened to.
I behold my hands full of tears and my heart beat quickenes,
because time passes by slowly and the pain worsens,
leaving lamentable trails as it passes by,
leaving me in the ground,
trying to drown a feeling that is engraved with fire in my heart,
trying to find the reason, trying to find peace,
and I realize that is not what I want to find,
because my heart is given to that melancholy so mine,
to that pain so mine,
to that feeling so human that still resides in me,
perhaps the only human thing in me…
the only truth that there is in my heart covered with blood and sadness
the only truth…
I submerge in the stupor and fly, fly,
my extended arms cut the wind,
and I close my eyes and my pain accompanies me,
so faithful and permanent,
and despite that I do not stop flying,
I fly fast to forget,
I fly fast not to feel so much,
and I continue flying because I no longer want to be.
RQ
Moscow
(Translation)
Ravaged
A cold autumn breeze blew swiftly,
whispering sorrows to the night,
just as tree leaves danced to a dying rythm,
in this evening of red-blood sunset enveloped in fright,
many an event may occur,
and some of us are simple witnesses,
beholding madness taking control,
and grasping its victims with no remorse.
That cold breeze whispered in her ears,
her constitution trembled and gave in to dreadful fears,
those that whipped her mind and thoughts, those that plunged her deeper down,
down to a place in her mind, the one that is not easy to find.
The breeze caressed her white face, her hair swinging here and there,
and just then, a stream of tears made their way out in the open, bursting free,
mourning her sorrow, crying her pain, lamenting every step she did not walk away,
a regret that is now futile, for the damage has been consumed,
transforming her body into the temple of her own disgrace,
the fountain of a pain that will not disappear quite soon.
The dying beams of sunlight ilumminated her face, as if an angel,
casting hues of red colour, invading her pain, emolating her sorrow,
eyes around her would glimpse at her suffering, sliding her out of mundanity,
submerging her broken being and fragile soul,
into a sentiment of horror and self-loath.
The intrusion of blasphemous filth entered within her,
scarring her soul, corrupting her flesh, leaving her torn….. without solace
bringing her down to the domain of sneering disgrace,
the one that stirs the pain and suffering within her.
She felt the perpetrator´s claws running through her with eagerness,
that eagerness that infused terror in her vains,
that eagerness that entered her sanctuary, the centre of her universe,
that eagerness that spoke of scornful words,
and in this wise destroyed her splendour.
The venom provided her with an agonising feeling for life,
and she sensed her life elapsing at the intrussion, her time passing her by,
her consitution shivering, left abandoned,
her wits she found all scattered and her being became no more than just a phantom.
Her eyes searched the pitiful state of her surroundings,
her life was missing and the intruder was not to be found,
and to a pitiful sentiment of dreadfulness she was now bound.
Moscow
25/10/10
RQ
whispering sorrows to the night,
just as tree leaves danced to a dying rythm,
in this evening of red-blood sunset enveloped in fright,
many an event may occur,
and some of us are simple witnesses,
beholding madness taking control,
and grasping its victims with no remorse.
That cold breeze whispered in her ears,
her constitution trembled and gave in to dreadful fears,
those that whipped her mind and thoughts, those that plunged her deeper down,
down to a place in her mind, the one that is not easy to find.
The breeze caressed her white face, her hair swinging here and there,
and just then, a stream of tears made their way out in the open, bursting free,
mourning her sorrow, crying her pain, lamenting every step she did not walk away,
a regret that is now futile, for the damage has been consumed,
transforming her body into the temple of her own disgrace,
the fountain of a pain that will not disappear quite soon.
The dying beams of sunlight ilumminated her face, as if an angel,
casting hues of red colour, invading her pain, emolating her sorrow,
eyes around her would glimpse at her suffering, sliding her out of mundanity,
submerging her broken being and fragile soul,
into a sentiment of horror and self-loath.
The intrusion of blasphemous filth entered within her,
scarring her soul, corrupting her flesh, leaving her torn….. without solace
bringing her down to the domain of sneering disgrace,
the one that stirs the pain and suffering within her.
She felt the perpetrator´s claws running through her with eagerness,
that eagerness that infused terror in her vains,
that eagerness that entered her sanctuary, the centre of her universe,
that eagerness that spoke of scornful words,
and in this wise destroyed her splendour.
The venom provided her with an agonising feeling for life,
and she sensed her life elapsing at the intrussion, her time passing her by,
her consitution shivering, left abandoned,
her wits she found all scattered and her being became no more than just a phantom.
Her eyes searched the pitiful state of her surroundings,
her life was missing and the intruder was not to be found,
and to a pitiful sentiment of dreadfulness she was now bound.
Moscow
25/10/10
RQ
Friday 22 October 2010
Chain
The chain grows thicker as my movements grow low,
I am trapped in this earthly prison of flesh and bone,
and my soul struggles to fly free in the dim light of a dying dawn,
but my wings yet feel so heavy for I am still a whisper almost gone!
I have been enchanted by free will, which does not at all its power wields,
for I am still trapped in a four-walled world,
decaying…. yet I embrace my pain, for it seems the only one to remain,
what on this realm of scars are we supposed to be?
living through centuries does not fulfill the painful endeavour of giving in….
I am supposed to plunge into an abyss of torment and sin,
taste the sweetness of temptation as my heart sinks.
it sinks into my own self, denying wrong or right,
trying to make all things make some sense..
what is there to behold!!!!!????
Just an empty stare through the void of beliefs….
RQ
Moscow
I am trapped in this earthly prison of flesh and bone,
and my soul struggles to fly free in the dim light of a dying dawn,
but my wings yet feel so heavy for I am still a whisper almost gone!
I have been enchanted by free will, which does not at all its power wields,
for I am still trapped in a four-walled world,
decaying…. yet I embrace my pain, for it seems the only one to remain,
what on this realm of scars are we supposed to be?
living through centuries does not fulfill the painful endeavour of giving in….
I am supposed to plunge into an abyss of torment and sin,
taste the sweetness of temptation as my heart sinks.
it sinks into my own self, denying wrong or right,
trying to make all things make some sense..
what is there to behold!!!!!????
Just an empty stare through the void of beliefs….
RQ
Moscow
Thursday 21 October 2010
The Culprit
Point out the culprit and pierce his heart with a poisoned dagger,
for his life makes no more sense and he has been enslaved by a pitiful notion of love,
the Love who has lured him into delivering his heart to a lie and surrender his life to a promise,
in regard of another heart who bled tears in nights of lonelyness.
Behold Love´s victory upon those weak at heart,
upon those who have for many a night shed tears endlessly,
whose screams and yells are muffled by the sentiment of Love pervading their souls with pain.
Oh what shall become of those who have been poisoned and stranded into uncertain paths?
Point out the culprit for his bleeding heart speaks of a dead promise of love,
and hence his life shall be vanquished and his soul shall be bathed in the blue fires,
for his beliefs have utterly surpassed and rapped the notions of Truth,
by providing Love itself of his own heart, and Love itself enslaved him, whipped him mercilessly.
Point the culprit for there is no other way, Love has murdered his heart slowly,
and thence his soul is now enveloped in bitterness, coated with pain,
the ones who have served loyal company now for years to come,
so this horror shall come to a halt, once and for all,
condemn Love and its putris lies, set free his guilty heart and soul!!
RQ
Moscow
21.10.10
for his life makes no more sense and he has been enslaved by a pitiful notion of love,
the Love who has lured him into delivering his heart to a lie and surrender his life to a promise,
in regard of another heart who bled tears in nights of lonelyness.
Behold Love´s victory upon those weak at heart,
upon those who have for many a night shed tears endlessly,
whose screams and yells are muffled by the sentiment of Love pervading their souls with pain.
Oh what shall become of those who have been poisoned and stranded into uncertain paths?
Point out the culprit for his bleeding heart speaks of a dead promise of love,
and hence his life shall be vanquished and his soul shall be bathed in the blue fires,
for his beliefs have utterly surpassed and rapped the notions of Truth,
by providing Love itself of his own heart, and Love itself enslaved him, whipped him mercilessly.
Point the culprit for there is no other way, Love has murdered his heart slowly,
and thence his soul is now enveloped in bitterness, coated with pain,
the ones who have served loyal company now for years to come,
so this horror shall come to a halt, once and for all,
condemn Love and its putris lies, set free his guilty heart and soul!!
RQ
Moscow
21.10.10
Tuesday 12 October 2010
Shadow and Angel of Light
I am the shadow of my own self,
with a light and pervaded with darkness,
I have seen the dark light, luring… eager to deavour,
and the pitiful remnants of my soul and darkened heart fight no more.
I have become a soldier set up to fight against myself,
to vanquish my bleeding heart, and retake my ideals of rebelion.
I am the shadow of my own self, eager to diminish the pain,
that pain which has pierced my soul with bitter thorns of hatred,
I am the one who will appear in my foul´s dreams,
I shall become the nightmare within a nightmare,
the one that carries the darkened light,
the one whose music lures to embrace a new sunset.
Angel of new light:
I am your protection, I am the fallen one, who has spreaded open new wings,
the one who will show you the flaws of a scarred kigdom of fears,
the one who has been silent, the one that dwells in every single soul,
the new awakening, the new sun and light!.
I am the shaddow of my own self,
the one who hides from the shining sun that pierces the eyes,
the one who embraces sadness, and black roses,
I am the one who embraces dark romanticism,
and the one who believes in the dead of a sentiment of freedom,
the one who embraces the pain with all his darkened soul,
the one who has believes his soul is abandoned to a dead life,
the one who cannot take any further step into heavens,
for his soul has been marked to be part of the other new light.
I hold a rosary that bleeds, I have seen angels beckononing me,
and yet my own self burns like the last ember of a fire,
I have become a new bleeding heart for the new sunset,
and I have resigned to the light of day.
I embrace and contemplate the wonders of night ,
the one who protetcts me under silver light,
the one who has seen creation,
the one who has seen temptation,
the one who also is whorshiped by the fallen.
Angel of new light;
A new light shall become anew from both moon and sun,
and thence souls shall not be slaves no more,
but embrace a new music and light they shall,
for all pain and pitiful enslavery will be in time gone.
I am still the shadow of my own self,
the one who has survived centuries of old,
the one who sees reflected in a mirror made of glass,
and cannot find the rightous path,
but nevertheless builds his own upon pain and misery,
I am the shadow of sorrowful mourn,
of muted fears and pain that whips the heart with no remorse.
Angel of new light:
Thou shall not be aprehensive of my words,
for so many a thing has been talked,
though my mouth comes with no words,
till the rightous day,
and thence I shall embrace them with pure love,
for I am capable of doing so,
I shall embrace thy heart and thy fears,
and thou shall drink from the elixir of a new dawn,
of a new hope that shall not discern from any soul,
but pervade them with a new dream… made out of us all.
I am the shadow of my own self,
who carries tears and vengeance in shape of a blade,
that pierces, that vanquishes, that hurts,
and does not look within victims,
but drains life out of them sweetly and painfuly,
for there is essence in quenching thirst,
the one that most of them simply do not understand.
RQ
Moscow
10/10/10
with a light and pervaded with darkness,
I have seen the dark light, luring… eager to deavour,
and the pitiful remnants of my soul and darkened heart fight no more.
I have become a soldier set up to fight against myself,
to vanquish my bleeding heart, and retake my ideals of rebelion.
I am the shadow of my own self, eager to diminish the pain,
that pain which has pierced my soul with bitter thorns of hatred,
I am the one who will appear in my foul´s dreams,
I shall become the nightmare within a nightmare,
the one that carries the darkened light,
the one whose music lures to embrace a new sunset.
Angel of new light:
I am your protection, I am the fallen one, who has spreaded open new wings,
the one who will show you the flaws of a scarred kigdom of fears,
the one who has been silent, the one that dwells in every single soul,
the new awakening, the new sun and light!.
I am the shaddow of my own self,
the one who hides from the shining sun that pierces the eyes,
the one who embraces sadness, and black roses,
I am the one who embraces dark romanticism,
and the one who believes in the dead of a sentiment of freedom,
the one who embraces the pain with all his darkened soul,
the one who has believes his soul is abandoned to a dead life,
the one who cannot take any further step into heavens,
for his soul has been marked to be part of the other new light.
I hold a rosary that bleeds, I have seen angels beckononing me,
and yet my own self burns like the last ember of a fire,
I have become a new bleeding heart for the new sunset,
and I have resigned to the light of day.
I embrace and contemplate the wonders of night ,
the one who protetcts me under silver light,
the one who has seen creation,
the one who has seen temptation,
the one who also is whorshiped by the fallen.
Angel of new light;
A new light shall become anew from both moon and sun,
and thence souls shall not be slaves no more,
but embrace a new music and light they shall,
for all pain and pitiful enslavery will be in time gone.
I am still the shadow of my own self,
the one who has survived centuries of old,
the one who sees reflected in a mirror made of glass,
and cannot find the rightous path,
but nevertheless builds his own upon pain and misery,
I am the shadow of sorrowful mourn,
of muted fears and pain that whips the heart with no remorse.
Angel of new light:
Thou shall not be aprehensive of my words,
for so many a thing has been talked,
though my mouth comes with no words,
till the rightous day,
and thence I shall embrace them with pure love,
for I am capable of doing so,
I shall embrace thy heart and thy fears,
and thou shall drink from the elixir of a new dawn,
of a new hope that shall not discern from any soul,
but pervade them with a new dream… made out of us all.
I am the shadow of my own self,
who carries tears and vengeance in shape of a blade,
that pierces, that vanquishes, that hurts,
and does not look within victims,
but drains life out of them sweetly and painfuly,
for there is essence in quenching thirst,
the one that most of them simply do not understand.
RQ
Moscow
10/10/10
Darkened Light
A curtain of tears is lifted from my eyes,
and no longer blinds my vision to see the light of the night,
a darkened light that I have sensed inside,
that has dwelled in me for now a long time,
and has somehow allowed me to behold its magnificence,
the one that is sublimingly iridescent,
and it leaves me enveloped inside a feeling of utter tranquility.
I shall now see the revealing scene that opens up before me,
for all lies have been cursed into a far away dream,
and the elegy of my angels shall be broken like old stone
and souls shall be entwined together, no more alone.
This darkened light I embrace for it is the light that all pervades,
and from the dreadful sun I have already resigned,
for this has many times burned my eyes,
and made me cast oceans of tears which I swam in sorrowful cries.
The thorns in my heart have grown thicker,
for a new nocturnal wind is blowing for not to shiver,
and the temerity for the unmasked love has been erradicated,
for that is the one that deceived many,
and perpetrated wounds upon those who believed,
leaving victims with broken promises and a sorrowful life to live.
This darkened light of ours is the new twilight, the new dawn,
that cries sweet tears of dew for everything new and old
and of which light we are the sons,
and of this light we are made anew,
and this is the darkened light,
the one our hearts adore.
RQ
04/10/10
23:48
and no longer blinds my vision to see the light of the night,
a darkened light that I have sensed inside,
that has dwelled in me for now a long time,
and has somehow allowed me to behold its magnificence,
the one that is sublimingly iridescent,
and it leaves me enveloped inside a feeling of utter tranquility.
I shall now see the revealing scene that opens up before me,
for all lies have been cursed into a far away dream,
and the elegy of my angels shall be broken like old stone
and souls shall be entwined together, no more alone.
This darkened light I embrace for it is the light that all pervades,
and from the dreadful sun I have already resigned,
for this has many times burned my eyes,
and made me cast oceans of tears which I swam in sorrowful cries.
The thorns in my heart have grown thicker,
for a new nocturnal wind is blowing for not to shiver,
and the temerity for the unmasked love has been erradicated,
for that is the one that deceived many,
and perpetrated wounds upon those who believed,
leaving victims with broken promises and a sorrowful life to live.
This darkened light of ours is the new twilight, the new dawn,
that cries sweet tears of dew for everything new and old
and of which light we are the sons,
and of this light we are made anew,
and this is the darkened light,
the one our hearts adore.
RQ
04/10/10
23:48
New Light
I was given a black rose by a dead hope of love,
that has made me walk through a valley of thorns and poisoned illusions,
and from this valley, sorrow feeds upon the remnants of my soul,
giving no rest to despair and utter discontent.
I have fallen into a deep hollow where a choir of sneering voices chain me,
and where all hope and beauty dies into decadence,
and I lay there, drowned and wrapped in devastation,
and the light that once was, is simply no more…
I abhor the discourse love once gave me pervaded with deceiving words,
words I once believed enchanted by their light,
but now this agonizing feeling seems to overpower my wits,
which lay all scattered in this depressing valley of tears and sorrow,
I hence mourn the day in which my soul commenced to be whipped.
I then shall raise my fist in dissent and in utter discontent,
for the light of that love has plunged me into an abyss of torment,
tearing my heart disdainfully and leaving it to peril,
in which pain seems far to be eradicated.
This black rose I shall keep as company and guardian,
and shall make out of desolation and sadness my confident,
for they are to be my light and my love emerged from ashes,
the truth that bursts new from deceiving words and promises.
I thus, shall summon the hearts blinded and victimised by that putrid love,
and restore the loyalty for a new light and vanquish the hope created from lies,
for they are feeble and tainted, raged and unsustainable,
from this valley of sorrow I shall eradicate its realm,
and thence a new moon with silver light will raise bathed in stars and dew,
to take the wounded hearts under its wings with the blow of a new wind.
RQ
5/10/10
Moscow
that has made me walk through a valley of thorns and poisoned illusions,
and from this valley, sorrow feeds upon the remnants of my soul,
giving no rest to despair and utter discontent.
I have fallen into a deep hollow where a choir of sneering voices chain me,
and where all hope and beauty dies into decadence,
and I lay there, drowned and wrapped in devastation,
and the light that once was, is simply no more…
I abhor the discourse love once gave me pervaded with deceiving words,
words I once believed enchanted by their light,
but now this agonizing feeling seems to overpower my wits,
which lay all scattered in this depressing valley of tears and sorrow,
I hence mourn the day in which my soul commenced to be whipped.
I then shall raise my fist in dissent and in utter discontent,
for the light of that love has plunged me into an abyss of torment,
tearing my heart disdainfully and leaving it to peril,
in which pain seems far to be eradicated.
This black rose I shall keep as company and guardian,
and shall make out of desolation and sadness my confident,
for they are to be my light and my love emerged from ashes,
the truth that bursts new from deceiving words and promises.
I thus, shall summon the hearts blinded and victimised by that putrid love,
and restore the loyalty for a new light and vanquish the hope created from lies,
for they are feeble and tainted, raged and unsustainable,
from this valley of sorrow I shall eradicate its realm,
and thence a new moon with silver light will raise bathed in stars and dew,
to take the wounded hearts under its wings with the blow of a new wind.
RQ
5/10/10
Moscow
Hope
A night that comes along perfumed with dead roses,
An angel´s tear that I lick and behold the end in dark wings,
Oh beautiful weeping lady o´ mine,
Thou tears shall be cast in the name of others of old?
A night that comes along perfumed with sins of all,
When hope is utterly lost,
And shrills of cry pervade it all,
What on earth has befallen?
I kiss thy tears and sip thy blood,
All that is left to behold unfolds,
Permitting fire make anew their souls,
For a new day,
For a new dawn,
In peace let them rest in times to become.
JR
Moscow
16/9/10
1:38 am
An angel´s tear that I lick and behold the end in dark wings,
Oh beautiful weeping lady o´ mine,
Thou tears shall be cast in the name of others of old?
A night that comes along perfumed with sins of all,
When hope is utterly lost,
And shrills of cry pervade it all,
What on earth has befallen?
I kiss thy tears and sip thy blood,
All that is left to behold unfolds,
Permitting fire make anew their souls,
For a new day,
For a new dawn,
In peace let them rest in times to become.
JR
Moscow
16/9/10
1:38 am
Witness
I am the witness of endless nights,
The one that unfolds the worthy key,
And hence I saw the angel´s weep for endless times consumed by sins.
I embraced their tears as no-one else would,
And beheld their sorrow, and the deeds they would excercise upon you.
Who is to blame when regret and pure love shall reign?
If we remain cross-armed and do nothing but refrain, no-one is to gain,}
All darkened light shall embrace the other side,
And from the goblet of life we shall remain all tied,
But tears invade us all, blinding our judgment,
And blinding our souls…
JR
Moscow
16/9/10
The one that unfolds the worthy key,
And hence I saw the angel´s weep for endless times consumed by sins.
I embraced their tears as no-one else would,
And beheld their sorrow, and the deeds they would excercise upon you.
Who is to blame when regret and pure love shall reign?
If we remain cross-armed and do nothing but refrain, no-one is to gain,}
All darkened light shall embrace the other side,
And from the goblet of life we shall remain all tied,
But tears invade us all, blinding our judgment,
And blinding our souls…
JR
Moscow
16/9/10
Above from Below
Cries of lamentation were heard by winged beings of golden halo,
for emptiness and void of long ago have corrupted hearts,
and been by darkened light swallowed.
And tears were gushing from the eyes of those who fell from grace,
it marked the commencement of their disgrace and blackened pain,
that sank their hearts into the abyss of torment and woe,
for the ones in flesh and bone enjoyed the solace from above.
A cross to carry that burdens souls,
was lifted by those who show no remorse,
luring the bearers with utter ad libitum,
impelling them to make joy out of freedom,
thus no reason for carrying such burden was given,
no culprit to point even.
A sense of tragedy embraced the hearts of the ones with golden wings,
for they knew the mouth of torment and sin has been open to devour,
and many a tear were shed ,
for the ones with flesh will be marked by their own luring minds and words,
and the end of their world, hence, shall commence…
JR
Moscow
for emptiness and void of long ago have corrupted hearts,
and been by darkened light swallowed.
And tears were gushing from the eyes of those who fell from grace,
it marked the commencement of their disgrace and blackened pain,
that sank their hearts into the abyss of torment and woe,
for the ones in flesh and bone enjoyed the solace from above.
A cross to carry that burdens souls,
was lifted by those who show no remorse,
luring the bearers with utter ad libitum,
impelling them to make joy out of freedom,
thus no reason for carrying such burden was given,
no culprit to point even.
A sense of tragedy embraced the hearts of the ones with golden wings,
for they knew the mouth of torment and sin has been open to devour,
and many a tear were shed ,
for the ones with flesh will be marked by their own luring minds and words,
and the end of their world, hence, shall commence…
JR
Moscow
Missing Something
I miss the love I have never had,
The memory of something I have never lived,
And the kiss I have never felt.
I miss your caress though I have never met you,
And feel your heart beating next with that of mine
At the rythym just as soft as that of a river.
I miss my nights with you in an endless dream with no challenge,
In a sea of illusions of what we have never lived,
I miss the sound of our piano, in nights bathed in stars,
In nights we have ever lived but have never occurred.
I miss to behold the art of that that is not understood,
And of which you and I have for years and years lived,
But which no mortal have understood,
I miss the melancholic music of a piano,
Only witness, which not even a single word has been spoken.
Moscow
RQ
9-9-10
1:16 am
The memory of something I have never lived,
And the kiss I have never felt.
I miss your caress though I have never met you,
And feel your heart beating next with that of mine
At the rythym just as soft as that of a river.
I miss my nights with you in an endless dream with no challenge,
In a sea of illusions of what we have never lived,
I miss the sound of our piano, in nights bathed in stars,
In nights we have ever lived but have never occurred.
I miss to behold the art of that that is not understood,
And of which you and I have for years and years lived,
But which no mortal have understood,
I miss the melancholic music of a piano,
Only witness, which not even a single word has been spoken.
Moscow
RQ
9-9-10
1:16 am
Mind Words
A man out of his mind,
Wrote lines to be preached in the pit of darkened minds and lives,
Words and rituals to be followed,
The ones that not at all are shallow,
But summoned in blackened words of hidden light and life,
Which resides within all things.
Voices of those fallen that need to be heard,
enchanted by melodies and promises,
All of them heard on this earth,
none of them taken to the furthest step,
He screamed, yelled and whined for such sorrows he was witness of,
However not utterly been a part of,
And of darkened cities and souls he was a witness of,
Of angels´ fall and the tears of them all,
And he embraced their pain in his whole mind,
and hence all prophecies he beheld,
and realised they were not completely to blame,
And blackened words came out of his mouth,
producing shouts of cries that were swallowed
all of them in the inmensity of the night,
swallowed in his maddened mind.
RQ
Moscow
9.9.10
1251am
Wrote lines to be preached in the pit of darkened minds and lives,
Words and rituals to be followed,
The ones that not at all are shallow,
But summoned in blackened words of hidden light and life,
Which resides within all things.
Voices of those fallen that need to be heard,
enchanted by melodies and promises,
All of them heard on this earth,
none of them taken to the furthest step,
He screamed, yelled and whined for such sorrows he was witness of,
However not utterly been a part of,
And of darkened cities and souls he was a witness of,
Of angels´ fall and the tears of them all,
And he embraced their pain in his whole mind,
and hence all prophecies he beheld,
and realised they were not completely to blame,
And blackened words came out of his mouth,
producing shouts of cries that were swallowed
all of them in the inmensity of the night,
swallowed in his maddened mind.
RQ
Moscow
9.9.10
1251am
Dead Ethereal Life
From the dead cold of ethereal immensity I behold what I once used to be,
and as I see, I embrace my forgotten sins and regret that dead life I was unquestionably given,
for the main sin was living it submerged in misery and pain,
that pain and misery that corrupts the flesh and punishes the soul,
leaving remnants and ashes as they pass by.
From this dead cold, I gather the tears I once shed and the fears I once had,
and tossed them to the skies and earth with outspoken despise,
and thence a sentiment of abhor for that dead life invades me,
at the time that freedom claims its place and infuses its elixir within me,
and thus I shall sustain in it as I nestle in the arms of death,
who has given me the dark kiss and the cold embrace that appeases the soul.
From this dead cold, I gather the love that love himself promised to provide me with,
and the loathsome lies I threw to the red and blue fires of earth,
giving a final utter end to that agonizing sentiment that pervaded my heart once,
and there happened I contemplated a vengeful blinding light that bathed me.
From this ethereal immensity I throw off all earthly bounds that chained me inexorably,
and in this wise I quicken my way to the eternal kiss that paved my way into liberty,
that one that alludes to a final rest of that dead life that smothers silently.
RQ
moscow
and as I see, I embrace my forgotten sins and regret that dead life I was unquestionably given,
for the main sin was living it submerged in misery and pain,
that pain and misery that corrupts the flesh and punishes the soul,
leaving remnants and ashes as they pass by.
From this dead cold, I gather the tears I once shed and the fears I once had,
and tossed them to the skies and earth with outspoken despise,
and thence a sentiment of abhor for that dead life invades me,
at the time that freedom claims its place and infuses its elixir within me,
and thus I shall sustain in it as I nestle in the arms of death,
who has given me the dark kiss and the cold embrace that appeases the soul.
From this dead cold, I gather the love that love himself promised to provide me with,
and the loathsome lies I threw to the red and blue fires of earth,
giving a final utter end to that agonizing sentiment that pervaded my heart once,
and there happened I contemplated a vengeful blinding light that bathed me.
From this ethereal immensity I throw off all earthly bounds that chained me inexorably,
and in this wise I quicken my way to the eternal kiss that paved my way into liberty,
that one that alludes to a final rest of that dead life that smothers silently.
RQ
moscow
Tuesday 24 August 2010
Her Dark Beauty
A choir of darkened voices pervade the room,
a circle of candles lighting her doom,
but his executioner is weak at heart,
and his body shivers and falters... an innocent lamb,
his thoughts and words swim in a sea of confusion,
as he beholds her beauty and gives in to delusion,
for his heart and faith grew weak,
and his book of words was stabbed with a pick.
Prayers flying and whispers gathering,
her eyes opened wide, her constitution not faltering,
her nails she pushed through his skin,
and in torrents he spilt his blood, and faith within,
a darkened kiss she gave him,
a smirk on her expression was drawn instantly,
his eyes filled with tears of a lost soul,
the one he was about to lose in a tight embrace of cold,
for he knew he was defeated by the darkened beauty,
the one that leaves the flesh corrupted,
and gives you the power of cruelty.
RQ
Caracas
23-8-10
a circle of candles lighting her doom,
but his executioner is weak at heart,
and his body shivers and falters... an innocent lamb,
his thoughts and words swim in a sea of confusion,
as he beholds her beauty and gives in to delusion,
for his heart and faith grew weak,
and his book of words was stabbed with a pick.
Prayers flying and whispers gathering,
her eyes opened wide, her constitution not faltering,
her nails she pushed through his skin,
and in torrents he spilt his blood, and faith within,
a darkened kiss she gave him,
a smirk on her expression was drawn instantly,
his eyes filled with tears of a lost soul,
the one he was about to lose in a tight embrace of cold,
for he knew he was defeated by the darkened beauty,
the one that leaves the flesh corrupted,
and gives you the power of cruelty.
RQ
Caracas
23-8-10
Thursday 22 July 2010
Screamer Of Sorrow
She comes in ebony cloak through valleys of old,
carrying the goblet of misery,
eagering your soul,
on the other hand she carries tears,
of the ones she has captivated long ago.
She walks under the stark night,
yelling screams of sorrow, shedding tears that freight,
for those she once loved,
shreded to dust of bones they are gone.
They hear her lamentations
and their hearts are instant prey of apprehension,
for they know her mistery and dammnation,
thus they are unable to disregard her into whole oblivion
Her sordid torment is overpowered by sorrow,
her soul bound to earth swallowed by deep hollow,
brush some lamb blood on the frame,
so she shall for a while forget her rage,
Her deafning screams swallows the silence,
yet her pain deep down inside grows in violence,
embracing hatred, embracing sorrow,
shut thy ears my sweet one,
otherwise she might drag you into her hollow.
RQ
Rome
22-jul-10
carrying the goblet of misery,
eagering your soul,
on the other hand she carries tears,
of the ones she has captivated long ago.
She walks under the stark night,
yelling screams of sorrow, shedding tears that freight,
for those she once loved,
shreded to dust of bones they are gone.
They hear her lamentations
and their hearts are instant prey of apprehension,
for they know her mistery and dammnation,
thus they are unable to disregard her into whole oblivion
Her sordid torment is overpowered by sorrow,
her soul bound to earth swallowed by deep hollow,
brush some lamb blood on the frame,
so she shall for a while forget her rage,
Her deafning screams swallows the silence,
yet her pain deep down inside grows in violence,
embracing hatred, embracing sorrow,
shut thy ears my sweet one,
otherwise she might drag you into her hollow.
RQ
Rome
22-jul-10
Final Embrace
She begged for it to come in the cold wind of a winter night,
for it to come and embrace her coldly and yet warmly,
while her heart being pierced in a final sunset,
gave way to a final breath and a final name that will be blown away
a name that became aghast and will be bathed in the ashes of time,
for this one has already taken its toll and may show no mercy at all.
She begged for it to fall in love with her, inexhorably,
to fall in love with her own light and darkness,
to behold her raputure and content,
and perhaps, to take her own heart and burn it away,
and so finally Death fulfilled her desire,
and provided her with a warm embrace,
and moistured her crimson lips with tears,
tears that trickled and entwine with those of hers
and her hair was bathed in thousands of petals of roses,
and for everyone to behold such beauty in a creature,
that even in a final moment showed no decadence.
Death proudly demostrated his art on her,
the beauty of his embrace, and the leading of his way,
and she beheld all this awestricken
and gave him her bleeding heart
to be turned into ashes of dust and roses,
and Death kissed her in her dying breath,
and shed tears for her,
for he fell in love with her, her soul, her darkness and light
and hence he kept her heart, unstained, bleeding,
and he showered it with his own tears
and kept it for him unselfishly,
and cried in sorrow for she was there no more,
for he has given her the final embrace
RQ
Rome
22Jul10
for it to come and embrace her coldly and yet warmly,
while her heart being pierced in a final sunset,
gave way to a final breath and a final name that will be blown away
a name that became aghast and will be bathed in the ashes of time,
for this one has already taken its toll and may show no mercy at all.
She begged for it to fall in love with her, inexhorably,
to fall in love with her own light and darkness,
to behold her raputure and content,
and perhaps, to take her own heart and burn it away,
and so finally Death fulfilled her desire,
and provided her with a warm embrace,
and moistured her crimson lips with tears,
tears that trickled and entwine with those of hers
and her hair was bathed in thousands of petals of roses,
and for everyone to behold such beauty in a creature,
that even in a final moment showed no decadence.
Death proudly demostrated his art on her,
the beauty of his embrace, and the leading of his way,
and she beheld all this awestricken
and gave him her bleeding heart
to be turned into ashes of dust and roses,
and Death kissed her in her dying breath,
and shed tears for her,
for he fell in love with her, her soul, her darkness and light
and hence he kept her heart, unstained, bleeding,
and he showered it with his own tears
and kept it for him unselfishly,
and cried in sorrow for she was there no more,
for he has given her the final embrace
RQ
Rome
22Jul10
Wednesday 14 July 2010
Angel of Stone
An angel of stone hauls himself over me crying dried tears,
crying for a youth that whithers away and a tormented life,
lamenting on my shoulder memories of old,
that just like daggers pierce my darkened heart eternal no more.
This angel of stone weeps for my life and I weep for my death,
for this one does not seem to let me behold her shadowy face,
and leaves me wandering over lands of shadows and fortless ilusions with no haze.
This angel of stone who weeps tears for me,
seems to have more life than me,
and his lamentation is alive,
and it is irremediably beautiful as I cry.
I shiver as I contemplate him,
and my eyes cast tears of blood,
for he cries for a whithering youth
and a life in death that has barely worthly proved,
he cries for sins that are not his,
and for a darkened heart beating in deep bliss.
Dry tears that do not cease to run through,
and inert eyes that do not cease to see,
angel of stone, weeping your thoughts are,
and your lamentation for what once I was are futile and bleak.
My angel of stone,
cry for this time that rapidly has gone by,
but that my wounds has not healed,
and my heart does not beat as before,
for it has grown dark,
and its beating has ebbed more than long ago.
An angel of stone hauls himself over me,
and his lamentations are to be heard,
lamentations for sins that are not his,
but so oh mine that I cannot escape
for I just simply cannot see.
Chain my life to this constant wandering,
through deserted paths, pervaded with dust,
my feets tiredsome are,
and my capricious heart is,
for a time that went by,
and is not to come at last.
Cry my angel of stone,
lament my sins and feel my torn heart,
already entwined to oblivion
and mixed with a letargic feeling of lust,
thus in this world I wander with more pain than glroy.
RQ
Moscow
14/7/10
crying for a youth that whithers away and a tormented life,
lamenting on my shoulder memories of old,
that just like daggers pierce my darkened heart eternal no more.
This angel of stone weeps for my life and I weep for my death,
for this one does not seem to let me behold her shadowy face,
and leaves me wandering over lands of shadows and fortless ilusions with no haze.
This angel of stone who weeps tears for me,
seems to have more life than me,
and his lamentation is alive,
and it is irremediably beautiful as I cry.
I shiver as I contemplate him,
and my eyes cast tears of blood,
for he cries for a whithering youth
and a life in death that has barely worthly proved,
he cries for sins that are not his,
and for a darkened heart beating in deep bliss.
Dry tears that do not cease to run through,
and inert eyes that do not cease to see,
angel of stone, weeping your thoughts are,
and your lamentation for what once I was are futile and bleak.
My angel of stone,
cry for this time that rapidly has gone by,
but that my wounds has not healed,
and my heart does not beat as before,
for it has grown dark,
and its beating has ebbed more than long ago.
An angel of stone hauls himself over me,
and his lamentations are to be heard,
lamentations for sins that are not his,
but so oh mine that I cannot escape
for I just simply cannot see.
Chain my life to this constant wandering,
through deserted paths, pervaded with dust,
my feets tiredsome are,
and my capricious heart is,
for a time that went by,
and is not to come at last.
Cry my angel of stone,
lament my sins and feel my torn heart,
already entwined to oblivion
and mixed with a letargic feeling of lust,
thus in this world I wander with more pain than glroy.
RQ
Moscow
14/7/10
Friday 2 July 2010
Tragedy
In the darkened pit of uneasyness he laid,
overwhelmed by a remorse he simply could not disperse,
and he simply could not find tranquility,
for this remorse of his seemed not to move away easily.
His thoughts were drowned and shrouded by darkness,
this one being thick, giving way to a sentiment of sadness,
which impetously thrashed his heart painfuly inside him,
for so barbarous his deeds were,
that extinguished the heart of the creature that was not to blame.
His tears streaming from his eyes,
would selfishly ravage any joy in his life,
and repentance did not serve well,
for his impure intentions have already on his victim fell,
murdering her soul in utter contempt,
succumbing her to the brink of the venom,
in which she eventually fell.
She beheld the treachery and she wished her eyes were shrouded in a veil,
but time rapidly elapsing was,
that she took no heed for the life she had,
and in a moment's breach,
she plunged into Death's ebony pit.
His own ill-meant deed he would avenge,
and he could not perceive other solution than bloodshed,
for he realised he shall follow his once-beloved's fate,
and grabbing justice through a sword of grace,
he ended his torment by holding it twice through his soul and flesh.
RQ
Moscow
2/7/10
overwhelmed by a remorse he simply could not disperse,
and he simply could not find tranquility,
for this remorse of his seemed not to move away easily.
His thoughts were drowned and shrouded by darkness,
this one being thick, giving way to a sentiment of sadness,
which impetously thrashed his heart painfuly inside him,
for so barbarous his deeds were,
that extinguished the heart of the creature that was not to blame.
His tears streaming from his eyes,
would selfishly ravage any joy in his life,
and repentance did not serve well,
for his impure intentions have already on his victim fell,
murdering her soul in utter contempt,
succumbing her to the brink of the venom,
in which she eventually fell.
She beheld the treachery and she wished her eyes were shrouded in a veil,
but time rapidly elapsing was,
that she took no heed for the life she had,
and in a moment's breach,
she plunged into Death's ebony pit.
His own ill-meant deed he would avenge,
and he could not perceive other solution than bloodshed,
for he realised he shall follow his once-beloved's fate,
and grabbing justice through a sword of grace,
he ended his torment by holding it twice through his soul and flesh.
RQ
Moscow
2/7/10
Thursday 1 July 2010
Love in Love with Grief
What is there of a rose without thorns?,
a love that causes no shedding of tears anymore,
a joy that possesses the company of grief no more?,
hence, I shall impel the moon to cast tears for the sun,
and winter's cold wind to whirl with that of spring in awe,
and lure you to swim in the oceans of tears I shed long ago.
The heart is in love with the shadows,
and its souls eagers the embrace of grief,
we all our sorrows must swallow,
and dance in rapture with love and melancholy.
Love's peril is not in the hands of Death,
but in crueler hands it frivolously dwells,
and in utter felicity it refuses to live in,
it holds the hands and tears of grief still,
they are to be together and feed on each other's miserability.
What is there of a whithering night with no morning dew to mourn its departure?
Hence I shall cry tears of joy,
for it will come again dressed up in twilight,
and I shall behold love dance in joy with grief,
embracing each other in eternal bliss,
for love is not worth living without a dose of grief,
it might whip your back,
and chain your heart to obstinacy.
RQ
Moscow
1/7/10
a love that causes no shedding of tears anymore,
a joy that possesses the company of grief no more?,
hence, I shall impel the moon to cast tears for the sun,
and winter's cold wind to whirl with that of spring in awe,
and lure you to swim in the oceans of tears I shed long ago.
The heart is in love with the shadows,
and its souls eagers the embrace of grief,
we all our sorrows must swallow,
and dance in rapture with love and melancholy.
Love's peril is not in the hands of Death,
but in crueler hands it frivolously dwells,
and in utter felicity it refuses to live in,
it holds the hands and tears of grief still,
they are to be together and feed on each other's miserability.
What is there of a whithering night with no morning dew to mourn its departure?
Hence I shall cry tears of joy,
for it will come again dressed up in twilight,
and I shall behold love dance in joy with grief,
embracing each other in eternal bliss,
for love is not worth living without a dose of grief,
it might whip your back,
and chain your heart to obstinacy.
RQ
Moscow
1/7/10
Wednesday 30 June 2010
The Painter
There he was with his soul speaking of colours,
struggling with a mind of million thoughts,
portraying life of memories,
portraying his life in a dream-like-not-decadent scene.
His life in utter romance with his soul and art,
with windows open to behold the best of a heart,
which would not stop beating for a betterment of his soul.
A mind for not everyone to comprehend,
but which had a whole universe to deliver,
for those whose hearts is just not as part,
but the wholeness of the essence in life,
for we are not just flesh and bone,
but more importantly a never source of light.
He was just there,
providing life to everything the brush strokes would find,
a mind with thoughts so mesmerising,
that would go so far apart to other places,
which ill sentiments do not at all reside.
He was his music, poetry, the language of soul,
which just a few would attempt to find sense,
but how could this language be understood,
if we do not look for understanding deep down inside?
There he was with the wind,
blowing the strands of his hair,
as he spoke of words through his broken heart,
which had become a victim of despair,
which did not break it irreparably.
Portraying dreams of life,
portraying the beauty we are inside,
yet most of his beholders
do not understand the language of a soul and heart.
RQ
Moscow
29/6/10
struggling with a mind of million thoughts,
portraying life of memories,
portraying his life in a dream-like-not-decadent scene.
His life in utter romance with his soul and art,
with windows open to behold the best of a heart,
which would not stop beating for a betterment of his soul.
A mind for not everyone to comprehend,
but which had a whole universe to deliver,
for those whose hearts is just not as part,
but the wholeness of the essence in life,
for we are not just flesh and bone,
but more importantly a never source of light.
He was just there,
providing life to everything the brush strokes would find,
a mind with thoughts so mesmerising,
that would go so far apart to other places,
which ill sentiments do not at all reside.
He was his music, poetry, the language of soul,
which just a few would attempt to find sense,
but how could this language be understood,
if we do not look for understanding deep down inside?
There he was with the wind,
blowing the strands of his hair,
as he spoke of words through his broken heart,
which had become a victim of despair,
which did not break it irreparably.
Portraying dreams of life,
portraying the beauty we are inside,
yet most of his beholders
do not understand the language of a soul and heart.
RQ
Moscow
29/6/10
Heart Dweller
A never ending sentiment of love will always chain me to your heart,
from which me, being its sole prisoner,
I will not desire to escape to go afar.
You paved my way and buried my past with solace,
and your warm cold embrace holds me tight and in here I give up the fight,
and let myself enter and my fears I let them fade into your light.
With you and in you my memories will stay,
for I do not want them to be abandoned in forgetfulness,
and my nights are fulfilled in your eternal company,
you my princess, the one in which my heart anchors endlessly.
Nothing will be gone to waste,
for you are my night and my sun,
and before you I expose my starked soul...shamelessly,
and in such a fashion I envelope my love out of mundanity.
I dwell within your heart and out of it I shall not grow apart,
for such thing is not my desire,
for you are the source, my white fire,
the one to whom I row to safe shores and find shelter
which in other sites I find no more
RQ
Moscow
29/6/10
from which me, being its sole prisoner,
I will not desire to escape to go afar.
You paved my way and buried my past with solace,
and your warm cold embrace holds me tight and in here I give up the fight,
and let myself enter and my fears I let them fade into your light.
With you and in you my memories will stay,
for I do not want them to be abandoned in forgetfulness,
and my nights are fulfilled in your eternal company,
you my princess, the one in which my heart anchors endlessly.
Nothing will be gone to waste,
for you are my night and my sun,
and before you I expose my starked soul...shamelessly,
and in such a fashion I envelope my love out of mundanity.
I dwell within your heart and out of it I shall not grow apart,
for such thing is not my desire,
for you are the source, my white fire,
the one to whom I row to safe shores and find shelter
which in other sites I find no more
RQ
Moscow
29/6/10
Queen of Worms
Behold her sneering smirk and her staring at humanity in utter contempt,
for she is the who strolls through the ground and fields in ebony cloak,
the one who feeds upon death and eradicates any human betterment,
and indulges herself in a misruled system,
and takes liberty upon ad libitum.
Upon her gaunted face, a grimace of pleasure is drawn at contemplating
her victims in a deplorable condition of ignorance based on self-destruction,
and this paves the way foe her never ending commencement for ravaging humanity
in a continuous cycle of destruction.
Behold her uniqueness in performing her ill-meant deeds,
declaring herself the victorious one in a benighted cause that she calls human mind,
over which she gnaws upon endlessly with no remorse, no second thoughts.
She would engrave doom and dismay upon humankind,
for such a temptation would be hard to ignore or let be passed by,
and recurrent torment would envelop those who she urges to embrace coldly.
Behold her gratifying acknowledgement at human weak minds and corrupted hearts,
for they endlessly will sustain her existence among them,
making her the Queen of Worms, inexorably wielding such power upon those she rules
luring them with false sentiments of superiority and total power,
ebbing their human condition and deposing the remnants of their souls.
She occupies men's minds, wrapping them in her deceiving enchantment,
and leading them to their doom,
for she is their Queen, the one on which they now sustain,
the one that lures them in deadly attraction,
she is the Queen of Worms they all long to serve.... their Queen...
RQ
Moscow
29/6/10
for she is the who strolls through the ground and fields in ebony cloak,
the one who feeds upon death and eradicates any human betterment,
and indulges herself in a misruled system,
and takes liberty upon ad libitum.
Upon her gaunted face, a grimace of pleasure is drawn at contemplating
her victims in a deplorable condition of ignorance based on self-destruction,
and this paves the way foe her never ending commencement for ravaging humanity
in a continuous cycle of destruction.
Behold her uniqueness in performing her ill-meant deeds,
declaring herself the victorious one in a benighted cause that she calls human mind,
over which she gnaws upon endlessly with no remorse, no second thoughts.
She would engrave doom and dismay upon humankind,
for such a temptation would be hard to ignore or let be passed by,
and recurrent torment would envelop those who she urges to embrace coldly.
Behold her gratifying acknowledgement at human weak minds and corrupted hearts,
for they endlessly will sustain her existence among them,
making her the Queen of Worms, inexorably wielding such power upon those she rules
luring them with false sentiments of superiority and total power,
ebbing their human condition and deposing the remnants of their souls.
She occupies men's minds, wrapping them in her deceiving enchantment,
and leading them to their doom,
for she is their Queen, the one on which they now sustain,
the one that lures them in deadly attraction,
she is the Queen of Worms they all long to serve.... their Queen...
RQ
Moscow
29/6/10
Tuesday 29 June 2010
Soldier
Darkened the stone-walls of that castle are,
silent witness of many a war that it beheld,
of times when soldiers clad in armour,
their swords up high valiantly they held.
Their hearts bathed in courage and love,
sustained not only their dignity,
but also their brave souls,
for those they would fight for,
were the source of their lives,
their beloved ones.
Their foreheads bathed with sweat,
and a stern look on every face,
their constitution would reflect their strength,
and their hearts so brave,
that their foes with apprehension their hearts they gave,
and the soldiers with resolution,
their enemies they vanquished at all gain,
for in order of victory,
the shed of blood was necessary.
The clattering of swords compounded the music,
and a choir of shrills would envelop the scene,
as if with silk tunic,
and an ungovernable emotion for victory
upon the soldiers' hearts nestled,
boasting their spirits,
and throttling their enemies in temerity.
Many a soldier was wrapped up
in the arms of a final twilight,
and in the fields they fought their lives,
with all their heart, soul and might,
and lamentations for those who were no more
were wept and cried,
for such a valiant endeavour was worth a sacrifice.
In their eyes there shone their strength inside,
and in their hearts was the bravery of all times,
and many a year there would come
to cheer and celebrate all their might,
for they fought with metal,
and with all wit, strength and delight
RQ
Moscow
28/6/10
silent witness of many a war that it beheld,
of times when soldiers clad in armour,
their swords up high valiantly they held.
Their hearts bathed in courage and love,
sustained not only their dignity,
but also their brave souls,
for those they would fight for,
were the source of their lives,
their beloved ones.
Their foreheads bathed with sweat,
and a stern look on every face,
their constitution would reflect their strength,
and their hearts so brave,
that their foes with apprehension their hearts they gave,
and the soldiers with resolution,
their enemies they vanquished at all gain,
for in order of victory,
the shed of blood was necessary.
The clattering of swords compounded the music,
and a choir of shrills would envelop the scene,
as if with silk tunic,
and an ungovernable emotion for victory
upon the soldiers' hearts nestled,
boasting their spirits,
and throttling their enemies in temerity.
Many a soldier was wrapped up
in the arms of a final twilight,
and in the fields they fought their lives,
with all their heart, soul and might,
and lamentations for those who were no more
were wept and cried,
for such a valiant endeavour was worth a sacrifice.
In their eyes there shone their strength inside,
and in their hearts was the bravery of all times,
and many a year there would come
to cheer and celebrate all their might,
for they fought with metal,
and with all wit, strength and delight
RQ
Moscow
28/6/10
A Small Reflection
Why shedding tears over lost endeavours when there is persistence to look for?
Eyes blind-folded in fear do not let us behold a horizon enveloped with dreams and invaded with no tears.
We tend to walk walk through grounds pervaded in meaningless obstructions, to which sometime we are the sole creators, and we do not simply seem not to come to a halt and ravage the monster which seems to enjoy accosting us contemptibly.
There is no opportunity to point a culprit, such a fancy becomes vulgar and an absolute waste of thought and time.
Why not sneer at predicaments and inculcate ourselves into a betterment of the issue?
Drowning into a deplorable estate of self-pityness would lead us to reckless abhorring sentiments.
There shall always be a path to which we should follow, and of which we have knowledge of, however, so blind we might find ourselves, that discerning it would seem absurd, yet hidden somewhere we already know the answer.
Also, there will be something good and bad to learn from a bad situation and vice versa, and we enjoy the pleasure of ad libitum, the key is to use it thoughtfully... enjoy
RQ
Moscow
29/6/10
Eyes blind-folded in fear do not let us behold a horizon enveloped with dreams and invaded with no tears.
We tend to walk walk through grounds pervaded in meaningless obstructions, to which sometime we are the sole creators, and we do not simply seem not to come to a halt and ravage the monster which seems to enjoy accosting us contemptibly.
There is no opportunity to point a culprit, such a fancy becomes vulgar and an absolute waste of thought and time.
Why not sneer at predicaments and inculcate ourselves into a betterment of the issue?
Drowning into a deplorable estate of self-pityness would lead us to reckless abhorring sentiments.
There shall always be a path to which we should follow, and of which we have knowledge of, however, so blind we might find ourselves, that discerning it would seem absurd, yet hidden somewhere we already know the answer.
Also, there will be something good and bad to learn from a bad situation and vice versa, and we enjoy the pleasure of ad libitum, the key is to use it thoughtfully... enjoy
RQ
Moscow
29/6/10
Ghost of War
An ill-meant deed embodied in metal pervades minds and wills,
all of them deprived, all of them resigned,
for darkened hours have obscured skies,
allowing them shed tears,
permitting them their shrills cry.
Red sunsets for them all to behold,
and souls in torment to cry sufferings of old,
nothing else is left, just piles of ashes,
and waned faced bathed in red,
and questions are risen,
to index the culprit who has long ago fled,
yet they realise a single one is not to be pointed,
for they all have, as time went by,
a piece of guilt adopted.
Codes of preaching are forced upon those of different minds,
ravaging all that on its way it might find,
and with remarkable abhor,
words immersed in hatred are spoken,
and suffering for this is their token,
waned faces all gaunted,
and in ashes covered,
let Death play its part on the theatre of tragedy of the whole decaying scene,
let it wield all that torments the soul
and throttles the mind with grotesque sins.
Fists covered in red and dirt hit the ground,
surfacing tears that drag them down,
further down into nothingness,
and whatever is left around is lugubriously gnawed at by loneliness.
RQ
Moscow
26/6/10
all of them deprived, all of them resigned,
for darkened hours have obscured skies,
allowing them shed tears,
permitting them their shrills cry.
Red sunsets for them all to behold,
and souls in torment to cry sufferings of old,
nothing else is left, just piles of ashes,
and waned faced bathed in red,
and questions are risen,
to index the culprit who has long ago fled,
yet they realise a single one is not to be pointed,
for they all have, as time went by,
a piece of guilt adopted.
Codes of preaching are forced upon those of different minds,
ravaging all that on its way it might find,
and with remarkable abhor,
words immersed in hatred are spoken,
and suffering for this is their token,
waned faces all gaunted,
and in ashes covered,
let Death play its part on the theatre of tragedy of the whole decaying scene,
let it wield all that torments the soul
and throttles the mind with grotesque sins.
Fists covered in red and dirt hit the ground,
surfacing tears that drag them down,
further down into nothingness,
and whatever is left around is lugubriously gnawed at by loneliness.
RQ
Moscow
26/6/10
Friday 25 June 2010
Northern Forests
In northern forests my soul is free,
whilst memories of old bloom like spring,
taking me away to my real identity,
while all sadness is pushed away by the wind,
which caresses my face,
permitting me living an endless dream.
Time does not seem to elapse,
and in my mind there are no more cracks,
no more nightmares to haunt me,
so I just perceive how this bunch of illusions I set free,
letting them fly away into the inmensity,
letting them envelope me endlessly.
In northern forests all my being has finally encountered answers,
and all tremour fades away in the cold breeze,
and the wind all of them lashes, leaving all in peace.
In northern forests where I once existed,
where in times of old my people in joy was singing,
and hearts pounding in full strength,
for there were wars won,
and proud rushing through our vains.
RQ
Moscow
25/6/10
whilst memories of old bloom like spring,
taking me away to my real identity,
while all sadness is pushed away by the wind,
which caresses my face,
permitting me living an endless dream.
Time does not seem to elapse,
and in my mind there are no more cracks,
no more nightmares to haunt me,
so I just perceive how this bunch of illusions I set free,
letting them fly away into the inmensity,
letting them envelope me endlessly.
In northern forests all my being has finally encountered answers,
and all tremour fades away in the cold breeze,
and the wind all of them lashes, leaving all in peace.
In northern forests where I once existed,
where in times of old my people in joy was singing,
and hearts pounding in full strength,
for there were wars won,
and proud rushing through our vains.
RQ
Moscow
25/6/10
With No Dreams
Wake up from the slumber that have inmersed your thoughts,
they have been for so long submitted to a mesmerazing fantasy of old,
reach out of your sleep and contemplate reality and how deep its hole is.
Rational thoughts struggle vainly their way in,
and insticnt prevails in all to be seen.
Open your eyes and envelop yourself in the fantasy of reality,
abandon dreams or make them into feasible possibilities,
and throw off all dying dreams for they obstruct the north in which you should be.
Wake up from the slumber of dreaming,
and occupy your mind in the beating of new conscious feelings,
wield your power in collecting your senses,
and do not waste time in taking heed of meaningless offences.
Behold reality squeezing and drying out dreams' lives,
it has become the power of ill-meant deeds all alive,
giving you room for you to reside in reflection,
abandoning useless dreams and giving you the power of action.
Contemplate reality and how deep its hole is,
rational thoughts already making their way in,
yet a mixture of instinct still prevails in all to be seen.
RQ
Moscow
18/6/2010
they have been for so long submitted to a mesmerazing fantasy of old,
reach out of your sleep and contemplate reality and how deep its hole is.
Rational thoughts struggle vainly their way in,
and insticnt prevails in all to be seen.
Open your eyes and envelop yourself in the fantasy of reality,
abandon dreams or make them into feasible possibilities,
and throw off all dying dreams for they obstruct the north in which you should be.
Wake up from the slumber of dreaming,
and occupy your mind in the beating of new conscious feelings,
wield your power in collecting your senses,
and do not waste time in taking heed of meaningless offences.
Behold reality squeezing and drying out dreams' lives,
it has become the power of ill-meant deeds all alive,
giving you room for you to reside in reflection,
abandoning useless dreams and giving you the power of action.
Contemplate reality and how deep its hole is,
rational thoughts already making their way in,
yet a mixture of instinct still prevails in all to be seen.
RQ
Moscow
18/6/2010
Raven Spirit Of The Night
Her lustre face compounds beauty,
yet her darkened eyes summons fear upon those weak in mind,
upon those weak in will,
for she is the Raven Spirit of the Night,
the one that makes her victims cry.
I hold her and embrace her,
my all in all she is,
she has become my shelter,
she has become my forsaker,
when darkened hours gather up in scornful laughter.
She is the Raven Spirit of the Night,
she is the one I behold in all her might
and her incantation stronger is,
than any mortal's will,
and submerged I am in her,
in all this that I feel.
She is the spell-bounder of her victims,
the ebber of their days,
and she envelops them in clay,
and with wind and breath she blows them away.
She harvests their terror and fears,
and upon these she makes endless rivers of tears,
sliding them out of mundanity,
drowning them in their miserability,
and her darkened eyes would shine as time passes by,
to which she is no more tied.
She is the Raven Spirit of the Night,
enveloping me in all her might,
making enemies their share cry,
embracing me in a way tight
yet her darkened eyes summons fear upon those weak in mind,
upon those weak in will,
for she is the Raven Spirit of the Night,
the one that makes her victims cry.
I hold her and embrace her,
my all in all she is,
she has become my shelter,
she has become my forsaker,
when darkened hours gather up in scornful laughter.
She is the Raven Spirit of the Night,
she is the one I behold in all her might
and her incantation stronger is,
than any mortal's will,
and submerged I am in her,
in all this that I feel.
She is the spell-bounder of her victims,
the ebber of their days,
and she envelops them in clay,
and with wind and breath she blows them away.
She harvests their terror and fears,
and upon these she makes endless rivers of tears,
sliding them out of mundanity,
drowning them in their miserability,
and her darkened eyes would shine as time passes by,
to which she is no more tied.
She is the Raven Spirit of the Night,
enveloping me in all her might,
making enemies their share cry,
embracing me in a way tight
Come Back
Hold my past memories of joy,
for they persist in reminding me of her scent and of her embrace,
from which I yet do not seem to escape,
and the piano melody makes my tears flow endlessly in some sort of torment,
for I do not have her hunting smile,
that forsakes me of my own self,
and I keep on wondering why on earth has she left,
leaving me holding a bunch of roses that seem not to whither,
and I just keep on wondering what if she was still alive,
holding my hand as walk together,
as we used to do... hand in hand...
Oh heavens bring her back for I do not seem to end crying her departure,
her being so far away from my embrace...
I miss you so much, that I can barely write this words on this paper,
without shedding my tears for you...
please come back and embrace me eternally...
I would rather be with you and nothing else..
please, please, please come back... this pain is too much...
come back
RQ
Moscow
12/6/2010
for they persist in reminding me of her scent and of her embrace,
from which I yet do not seem to escape,
and the piano melody makes my tears flow endlessly in some sort of torment,
for I do not have her hunting smile,
that forsakes me of my own self,
and I keep on wondering why on earth has she left,
leaving me holding a bunch of roses that seem not to whither,
and I just keep on wondering what if she was still alive,
holding my hand as walk together,
as we used to do... hand in hand...
Oh heavens bring her back for I do not seem to end crying her departure,
her being so far away from my embrace...
I miss you so much, that I can barely write this words on this paper,
without shedding my tears for you...
please come back and embrace me eternally...
I would rather be with you and nothing else..
please, please, please come back... this pain is too much...
come back
RQ
Moscow
12/6/2010
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