The Solution to the Puzzle

My head, emptied of the remnants

of death, withers from the lack

of fresh light.

My body, hastily polished,

escapes lost lips, escapes from

the light-loving stigma.

I try to release

the last resurrected tear

from the trap of the shadow,

the last resurrected dawn.

We're blooming with the antiquated Sun,

freed from the last breath.

I hide in a puddle of mirror,

hide behind the barricade of my senses.

Will I die if I believe in

the meaning of life?

Will God greet me when I know

the solution to the puzzle?

Don't deceive my naked hope,

don't deny anyone's loneliness.

Reviews

[Kim S.]

We're blooming with the antiquated Sun,
freed from the last breath.
I hide in a puddle of mirror,
hide behind the barricade of my senses.

i really enjoyed this part, this is a wonderful write