143. Wishful thinking
Powerless and awkwardly bereft all strength
I cry to my beloved from the depth of darkness
and despair to in my languishment evoke a dream
that maybe still remains of perfect love,
a perfectly ideal relationship and union of our souls
in prayer for humanity and all that madness
that so desperately governs this so aberrated world;
but our love can save it, and that is my dream.
No darkness, no atrocities and no demented violence
can touch or violate this dream,
since our love is sacred
and a wonder at that too.
So let us pray across the borders of our separation
to redeem humanity with our love and with it all civilization.
Poetry by Christian Lanciai
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Written on 2006-08-31 at 12:38
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