A Dead Poet

A rope, a soap, a wooden chair…
The Death then gave me a frozen stare,
I looked and looked into her eyes,
Into the sea of shattered ice,
To find myself forever young…
One song alone remains unsung,
My body’s cold, my body’s blue:
In silence now it’s hanging up.
Our lies – in darkness turning true –
In lights still need a cover-up…
I died to seek the trace of you;
Your shade is here passing through
My weightless arms, my boneless soul,
To be one light – becoming whole –
Is all I want, is all I crave…
October leaves lead to my grave –
This square-shaped stone is all I have,
This my last poem you will not save.



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