A Falling Dusk
Night came, so softly touching everything on its way. Saying good night
to everything , birds were getting ready for the rest. Mosquitoes
feeling the power coming down from the dark sky , were dancing up into
the space filled with a scent of desperation. Like a huge, grand eye,
the moon was watching after this all.
Noise, movement, a lonely bird fell asleep. Some were sleeping, others
went hunting. The mirror of the lake was covered with tiny leaves,
lonely lily swimming around, feeling herself a queen of the roaming waters.
Frogs began singing their unpredictably charming songs.
Suddenly a silhouette appeared, as if bewitched by a lonely dance of
a butterfly. Night is always nice, it reminds me of times, when I was
a part of HER.
She is the queen of my life. A day may only break you, make you
crestfallen
as it did with me.
But my queen always takes me away, longing for fondle caress. Now I see
that I am escaping of meeting a source of my only solitude-My day.
Pain is so real, condemned to misery, I find myself entwining with the
night. I am vanquished, aspirations run dry. Tossing and turning from
one corner to another. I feel myself tapped, trapped under the ice.
Scattered earth, silence. Searching the answers to every why. Feeling
solitude of a broken and intoxicated mind, never knowing what waits for me
next. Loneliness left blind. The beauty of her appearance is always
with me. Surrounded by the same, I refuse to believe, just spinning
down the waters, I cry out- je suis si fatigue, que je doit partir, but I
stay and pain grows.
Who wanted to live forever??? Take a look into tomorrow s mirror, the
answer is there. The gate to my window, where the halo of my being is
tarnished. Craved to return back, back, back to my primitive. Bringing
all the reasons, I put my days an anvil, filling my empty space with
blood. The memory of those dreadful hours, when everybody died, the hours
of 1988-89. It all goes on up until now. I wish I could have died with
them all, no, not me, my pain should go on. A day when she left without
farewell and condemning myself to the eternal wandering. The eyes of
impaled icon. The fear of being punished, panic-stricken. Crying faces,
screaming people. I cant believe it happened to me.
A dark tranquility, when staying all alone, I was wondering at the
moon. I cant explain but only she could calm me down. Always noticing some
figures on its face. They told me of nights, of passing me by life, of
loneliness, of roaming, nomad life, DOOM+. What?, no, I don t think we
can do like this. Eternal fear of staying alone and even not lonely. A
dark room which tried to show me, to keep away from forthcoming events.
A light for a blind, a free ticket to the madness. La lune qui m aime,
comme je l aime. Trying to be who I cant, I sink into my own UTOPIA,
my own world. Sometimes, like a madman laughing at the main, I start
crying, dreams are unfulfilled and they will never come true. Fault of me,
my yellow flower, music, Abkhazian dreams- just a butterfly effect. I
am a dull personage on the stage of THEATRE OF TRAGEDY which is
forsaken by everyone and only lonely leaves are dancing and jumping with the
wind, the hands of which are drying the tears on my wet face. I smile,
thanks Lord I am still alive. I fly, fly with the birds, I fly to the
moon, I seat by the shore, I have them all. I love you all but you
despise me. Believe me, please save me, be good to me and I ll be twice
good. Don t kill it all. White flowers, enchanting stars, my lonely SOMA,
a dream of forever burning flame. Born to be free- never be chained. I
still wonder+wonder have you really felt the same. I close my eyes, my
mind becomes cleaner, there you are+ my Abkhazian dream.
10.03.03. D T A