Under the lights of dying flames
A dreaming image of myself appeared to me
It occurred in the chamber dimly lit
While outside, the wind kept knocking on the window
My secrets became my blames
And I had to endure so much distress it couldn’t be kept inside the oceans
As far as I could ever imagine, my existence was bound to the fate of my dreams
Each instant resembled a drop of poison tainting my heart
I remained asleep while the candles wept their wax onto the silver
And I was mourning the truth I couldn’t confess
Surrounded by shadows moving gracefully like ethereal skeletons
Turning me into a silhouette of grief and disdain
I couldn’t understand if I were dead or alive
I couldn’t even perceive my body anymore
All I could sense was my frailty facing the abyss of despair
No presence, no voice, came to ease my sorrow
The squalid solitude paralysed me to my deathbed
I became intoxicated with the scent of incense and decay
Conscious in my unconsciousness that I had no hope or salvation
Silence crowned my invisible haven, similar to a vestige nailed to the walls of my mind
I wandered incessantly through my thoughts like a ghost in a cathedral
Each memory of mine was a hollow and deformed ghoul
Dripping like wax from a long-forgotten candle
I couldn’t escape from my nightmare because there was no awakening reserved for me
I was doomed to the segregation of dimness
The image of myself faded into smoke
I vanished in the emptiness like smoke upon a mirror
Under the stare of my candelabra with their dying flames
No traces of me could have been found
No voice of mine was carved on the walls of eternity
Under the lights of dying flames, I became a shadow not even the moon could claim as its own.
Elisabetta