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Wednesday, July 3, 2013

Purging


I find my moments my days lately
filled like an abysmal  repository
with negative feelings
 
 My mind has wandered
into a cave filled with shards of mindless
objections to all that surrounds me
 
My cup once kept tepid with a little hope
salvaged from many aging but savory memories
is now leaking and the lukewarm brim
is chilling my lips that wish to sip
 
The constant rain day after day
has dampened my spirit where once
it wore ebullience and joy in a mindful
choice of attire
 

      ~ Rainy Landscape~
 

…Each drop of rain is my failed life weeping in nature.
There’s something of my disquiet in the endless drizzle,
then shower, through which the day’s sorrow uselessly
pours itself out over the earth

…It rains and keeps raining. My soul is damp from hearing it.
An anguished cold holds my poor heart in its icy hands.
The grey hours get longer, flattening out in time; the moments drag.
So much rain.

…A cold hand squeezes my throat and prevents me from
Breathing life.

…Everything is dying in me, even the knowledge that I can dream!
I can’t get physically comfortable. Every soft thing I lean against
hurts my soul with sharp edges. All eyes I gaze into are terribly
dark in this impoverished daylight, propitious for dying without pain.

The Book of Disquiet: Frenando Pessoa