Immortal Thoughts

The stars, tired of the sunset,

fall asleep on my lap.

The sun, exhausted by

its constant punctuality,

has opened its green eyes,

at the bottom of which

you can see costly tears.

I would be afraid to die

if you could stop the sky

from one more dark morning.

I won't have sleeped until my dreams

know my name.

Come before the future

breaks out, before fear opens

a sleepy heart.

Will seven colors be enough

for a rainbow to resurrect

a blood-red sky?

Will there be enough love

for a mad smile to make the pain

a memento of losers?

I believe that the second

you missed will blossom in your hands,

in your immortal thoughts.

Reviews

[M. J. Smith]

Rilke meets T. S. Elliot! I love it! Righteous, Dude!