Mihail Velcescu

Extravagant ideas wasting a man Whom he does not wish to meet Behind a vail, in the window He lays sliced in two A gaze, a glance, a glare, a difference? Misunderstanding of myself by

The orbs were dancing oh so bright hence was their once dim light My wish of a nocturnal sky Was stranger than ever for my Mind alone And the old mirrors prevaded the aeons white snowed

From an obscure space in chronicles of age I ride the clouds of dust on the winds of divine This I call the chaotic matter and I willingly Behold a human mind... The heavens crack as this

The sky was moaning echoed Cries and its mists lingered at The one destination I vowed To reach... How I wanted you back but How you shunned me and how You had the last say but How I had the

In flames of desert i rise Throughout my dried up spirit In disguise I fear of the untold I conceive it as the landscape I behold, never with an end, less a beginning Not contempt I am, in

The Scarlet Angel had been watching Listening to my utterly sick thoughts unspoken but fathomed by my daemons Now I would stalk the synapses and catching grip of a sane one I speak again. It

Measuring with scrutiny The scythe resting in its unmoving arms, I baffled As the time was ripe For its harvest to begin And I felt the moist against me body, As I crippled

Let my fears fly, above the plateau High above the steep declines and crevaces Where none would come upon them And how I could enjoy once again The fruits of the orchid Casting my eyes, the

Droplets falling ubiquitous upn my shoulders facing blackness and the precipice of the moist abyss/citadel against my torn apart chest There is a cleft in the wall And it lured my sight

Oh... my visions aeons hence Of those winged ghouls at the Doorways to dreams Those falling, stealing shadows Dancing in the moonlight, The dim light, the dark night The bright plains,

Past the boundary of slumber Beyond my thoughts of crimson Lay the grey-clouded skies Held in place by led horizons Amorphous bleak shillouetts I encounter\'d where i roved The carving-clad