Ditched
Sleepless nights of love
accompanied by nightmare worries
for your fate of persecution
of old sins and undeserved adversities
make me as shattered as yourself,
directly torn asunder by misfortune,
hanged in execution after torture
but with some hope left of liberation still
before the final strangulation.
No one wanted this,
not even the responsible bureaucracy,
while the villain is the lack of empathy,
the formalism of rules of programmation
for which no one is accountable.
Thus are you casually buried alive
and I with you in dreadful worries
quite atrociously insensibly,
and there is nothing we can do
but wait in limbo for an unknown opening,
which no one knows when it will come.
All we can do is to be true at least
to ourselves and our destiny,
which carries us through mortal vanity
in this perpetual and bothersome unrest
to no peace in eternity.
Poetry by Christian Lanciai
Read 583 times
Written on 2010-08-06 at 10:31
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