We all have sorcerers head

Every head has some flesh

All fleshes there have wings

See, the inside might be a mess

Look harder where the nightingale sings

Of all eternal things

Deepest lies the grace

During the dark dreary days

The bird disappears

Takes away the wings

Only feathers flutter

The reminisce of dread

and sonnet of death it rings

Inside the little head.

Do you dare spread them?

The entanglements

Create dots out of nothing

Chant hymn out of curses

Get life out of corpses

See ripples in the calm

Stories unfold a chapter

The rock once lit fire

The fire lit fires thereafter

Rocks still wait in silence

To burn civilizations.

I’ve met men

Limited by fear

I’ve met children

Limited by men

I’ve met women

Limited by children

I met myself, and ignored

I met me again

This time I was adamant

I wept for years

Bitter black tears of acceptance

The fear crumbled forever and

I never had to meet myself again.

Painting: READING GIRL | Artist: László Barna

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