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
