(picture by scottsdale)
In the flickering flame of a candle to fade,
I could see a woman,
moon was her companion,
While,I was searching in the valley of shadows,
for death symbols,
to play in my own graveyard.
I could hear an ethereal symphony of,
the moon light sonata,Which I never heard,
in the deadly silence of my graveyard,
immersed in icy cold winter haze.
As I enter with the screaming of,
footsteps on the frozen meadow
with flits and flutters of my desire,
under the shade,she was smiling,
her face was radiating with an eternal glow.
But,in that blissful moment……..
I could hear the cry,
of the rusted church bells,
waiting to fall into its grave.
In the valley of my desires,I cried,
like resonating thunder…..
As my search for my flesh of flesh,
lost its way……
in this blur of her winter gaze
But,in the valley of shadows,
in the unspoken silence of hearts…..
me,like a heap of dry bones,
without her moon light sonata.
(stimulated by the poem, woman waiting ,by ‘house of heart’ and borrowed phrases from the poem with her permission)