imago

nothing more than a woman

giving her smiles for whims

and touch for cheap delight;

not a goddess answering

to the loyal prayer,

worshipping her on highs,

that nothing disdains

but the impure rituals;

where is the ordering motion

that could restore faith

in the begging eyes misted

by kindness it cannot restore?

nothing more than a man

the hero is,

incapable to distinguish

from his weakness inspiring

to the comfort of redemption,

the clumsy attempts to pierce a heart

that is by same flesh and blood nourished.