Of the Light

/, Blesok no. 47/Of the Light

Of the Light

You Let the Words
Bright Tenderness
А Dream Entangled My Reality
I Ran
I Dream that I Disappear
The Word Is Our Destiny Deserved
Sorceries and Witchcraft
Remember

The word is our destiny deserved
A good destiny
A destiny of powerlessness
The word is neither whispered
nor yelled
it is a single circle that fits
The heart

The word burned with Jesus on the cross
we still collect the fire in our hearts
so it burns us too
With the word we melt in Eternity
and die in Nothingness without it

AuthorElizabeta Drakulovska
2018-08-21T17:23:16+00:00 April 16th, 2006|Categories: Poetry, Blesok no. 47|0 Comments