What am I looking for here?
In this dystopia's explosion?
So many self-anointed virtuous
around…
Circulating with branches and palm trees,
beyond all suspicion,
with the style of a hundred cardinals!
Dressed in the form of flattery,
in the chaos of a constant ambivalence,
They serve different masters,
after much eagerness!
I observe them...
At nights,
they engage in the necessary kneeling
with expiatory prayers
and the days,
They dig the soil with their claws
They devour the light wildly and bury it.
with barbarian screams!
As they cover it up
and they leave triumphant!
Observe…
So much satisfaction
in their dark gaze!
That omnivore,
their dark gaze...
What am I looking for here?
I have to leave before I get lost...
To hide in silence
the crack of the Holy
And from there,
to worship forever
your gold, Sun,
what is sown in the sea!
Calmness!
“I'm talking to you!”
I'm talking to you...
Where are you lucky enough to see the sunrise,
Inert and vigorous!
May he have woken up from the wild dawn!
To slip away
through the legs of the sky
and run towards you,
having swallowed sips
-one more time-
the death that is yours.
And instead of your cells
to blossom with gratitude
You,
sullen,
wrinkled by the weather,
you're looking at how to kill the sun...
This sun,
that will lift the children up!
Above the world you cooked up
and you didn't even notice,
that it doesn't belong to you...
Yes! I'm talking to you...
photo Briam-Cute, https://pixabay.com
