A Reminiscence Of Melancholy

Snatch away your comfort

The night adores you

Pack it in a private can,

And the grey of the morn

Offers me a otherworldly horizon

The day trudges on, imaginary, tepid,

Everything brings a threat, her guest.

A lady beyond the hexapod of senses

A fiery flame dances through

Her raven hair hanging in zest

An abyss in the heart of the little heaven

A sunset garden

Embedded in an embraced onomatopoeia

All dressed in mist.