Tag: poetic introspection

  • With A Shadowed Soul

    With A Shadowed Soul

    With a shadowed soul and a heart in pieces,
    I proceeded without direction and without refuge
    In the vast expanse of works of eternal beauty and magnificence,
    In my solitude, misunderstood and isolated,
    shunned for my identity,
    always having to hide like a creature invisible to mortals,
    yet present and alive,
    With a heart burning like an unquenchable flame.

    Deafening noises haunted me,
    And I sought to hide as far away as possible
    In a clearing of unquenchable and precious peace.
    I dodged mortals, I dodged their wicked and illusory souls;
    beings I deemed unworthy even of their glance upon me.

    The thorns of my sorrows pressed into my heart,
    making it bleed.
    It had become like a kind of gigantic sculpture
    that radiated pain and the weight of life,
    But also ardour and passion.

    The envy and jealousy of petty, tainted beings
    left traces of filth and decay
    upon my veil of protection and innocence.
    The sacredness and devotion of my heart
    had been contaminated and defiled
    by their greed and rotting wickedness.

    Their twisted faces bore a grin of satisfaction
    and, at the same time, of bitter corruption,
    to the point that their faces were disfigured
    by sores and deformities,
    as if they had contracted leprosy
    or some terrifying disease.

    My search for untainted love and the sublime had become impossible,
    for the shadows of these monsters,
    whose cruelties towards me were unparalleled and horrific,
    obstructed the view and the landscape
    to the point that I could see no more,
    And the fog filled my eyes,
    And I saw only darkness—
    The vastness of oblivion tried to swallow me.

    By now, the veils of illusion had fallen to the ground,
    And I could see reality as it truly was,
    For those bitter disappointments I was experiencing
    In those very moments of contrition
    had helped me to see those malevolent and dreadful souls
    for what they truly were.

    With a shadowed soul, I remained abashed,
    standing at the edge where hope and despair are mashed.
    Elisabetta

  • The Vault Of Forsaken Keys

    The Vault Of Forsaken Keys

    The vault of forsaken keys was the place of shadows and mysteries, of wisdom and madness, and where the keys of all the world, beyond the earthly and the earthly, were kept. It is not known to what or to whom they belonged, yet they seemed to guard secrets that no one could know.

    As dark and gloomy as this cavern of fantasy and greed might seem, of recession and generosity, it had a particular charm, a sobriety so composed that it impressed me for the order and at the same time the madness that hovered in those ancient and decrepit halls.

    The scent of incense and ancient metal impregnated the air, which was coloured by semi-shadows, by metallic reflections that the shadows cast upon the walls.

    The endless and long corridors spread out into an infinite labyrinth impossible to decipher. Without being able to find an exact direction. But one constant thing was the vision of a light like a perpetual faint glow at the end of these corridors. And the more I proceeded, the more I found no end. It was as if I had remained trapped in that underground and undefined place from which I was certain I could no longer escape. Because in fact there was no way out. And I was destined to become one of the countless and anonymous metal keys arranged on the walls.

    My freedom had been devoured by that unnamed and unfindable place. My troubles and cries were worth nothing, I only lost my breath. It was as if gradually I was losing the faculty to perceive my breath. And it was as if I was transforming into something else.

    I never knew if I was dreaming. I never knew if I was a common mortal, a being born on a planet. Or, instead, I was the fruit of my own imagination and I do not know what I was, what I had originated from. I too felt like one of those countless keys, in that vault of forsaken keys.
    Elisabetta

  • Quiet Mourning

    Quiet Mourning

    Quiet mourning
    Waiting for a sight
    In the silence of the night
    When I forget to be a mortal
    Renouncing every earthy property
    In my deep slumber of sorrow and despair
    Forgetfulness is welcome in my heart
    As long as I can breath

    Quiet mourning
    Like the one of a creature made of marble
    In the middle of the wilderness
    Abandoned to my fate
    As nobody would dare to pay attention
    As I become a wandering spirit of the night

    As I dream, everything is surreal
    And I own only my loneliness and misery
    Having burnt every desire and expectation of mine
    I get ready for my burial in the garden of disgrace

    Having lost so much
    Left with castles of sand and decay
    I left illusions to guide me into the realm of deception

    Wandering aimlessly
    I didn’t find myself
    I lost my heart being laid to rest in the graveyard of memories
    I was dead
    I had no desire to be among the mortals who betrayed and plundered me
    With their ugly depravity and hideous horribleness

    I deserted all of them
    I fled the world of banality and deceit
    Not interested anymore
    I aimed to new realms and wisdom

    Hovering among shadows and ghosts
    I embraced my quiet mourning
    My stillness that made of grief and distrust
    Conscious that everything was destined for an end

    Merit and prices were far away
    As I was cast astray by the brutal chance
    In the silent cemetery of lost hopes.
    Elisabetta

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