Lambs with Wings

Charade.

Acquainted with death – all of my children are.

Pieces of their divine souls have fallen into emptiness,

Regardless, they are no less innocent and no more corrupt

Than those who have drank of their dust and blood.

.

The younger one, poor useless child, was suffocated.

My honest boy who has never lost his imperfect virtues,

A precious smile, the essence of a condemned existence;

No more lonely, resting peacefully in his forgotten tomb.

.

My only girl, ideal of grace and nobility - has perished

In the ocean. Frozen in her eternal beauty, no longer seen

By the eyes of the deceived, she remains in the imagination

Of men who shall still regard her as the prettiest among

All the nonexistent Goddesses. Until the end of an Empire.

 . 

The oldest, a rebellious soul, has proven himself worthless.

He fights and chimes, yet never finds the answers he seeks.

Soon enough, says he, we shall be reborn.

And soon enough, they sing, we shall cease from existing.

Once again. Countless times. Until the end of time.

 .

Until the end of our Empire.

Hero in Distress

Ashamed of what he had become, the young knight did hide his inglorious secrets from those he needed love from. In his eyes, shades of guilt could be seen, yet no one would ever assume the sadness being more than a gallant feature - an addition to such an innocently charming face. Slowly, as misery danced through his veins, the hero in distress walked towards his beloved damsel. She smiled, surrounded by genuine kindness, and put her book aside as he threw himself at her feet.

Martyr of a thousand wings,

Sacred angel covered in glass,

Precious mother, sanctified soul;

Pray do tell me – is there salvation for

Those whose rotten essence longs

Perpetually, for decayed ideas of

The most mistaken elegance? 

If I were to wander endlessly,

Through lands of erroneous joy,

Would your kindness fade as quickly

as it has embraced me? For my graciousness

is ill and I see yours as no different!

In silence, the young lady came to rest a compassionate gaze upon her prodigious child. For a very long time he was gone, seeking for contentment as a replacement for the misfortunes only present in the heart of a hero- however, he found nothing – no endless happiness, nor beauty, nor honesty or redemption. Misery had gone with him and with him misery had remained, yet soon enough the damsel spoke:

So quick to judge, so quick to fade,

What is it that all of men pursue?

Since a young age, I’ve watched you die;

In battles, in love – no one has survived.

In a last attempt,

You seek for things you already have,

Faithlessly emptying the bottle of hope.

The answers you seek have always been there,

Coexisting in-between shame and arrogance.

And that’s the reason why, says he, you have always been the prettiest among all the maidens of their Empire. You are the only one whose heart exists…

Between shame and arrogance.

Aristocracy.

He dresses in black all of his dolls

And paints on their faces delusions and sins;

They sing together the most lugubrious songs

And laugh as his mother silently weeps.

.

Time passes by and she does not move;

Her eyes wide open, watching the truth;

My dear, she’d say, go out and play;

The other children are waiting – enjoying their games. 

.

Oh, mother, please, what would you know?

Look at you – dress as filthy as their souls!

If father were here, he would be ashamed,

For blood is staining remains of his name;

.

Oh, mother, please, stop looking at me!

Haven’t I become everything I could be?

The perfect child – your silliest dream;

Now that you have it; let me be free.

People have always shown me so much kindness. My wonderful teachers and friends, my lovely boyfriend, my generous parents and family, all of those employees in places I’ve been to countless times and even those whose name or face I’ve never known - those who work hard to bring me things such as food, hot water, comfort; things I take for granted. Everyone is so terribly kind; it’s a waste to cling to negative feelings when so many wonderful things surround me.

Thank you. 

Enlightenment.

I pray for my fairies every night,

For wisdom and values, my precious gifts.

They sing in my ears and put me asleep,

Promising, sweetly, dreams full of peace.

I wake up scared. Why, it can’t be!

But they’re still there - smiling at me.

A journey, storms, days with no bliss,

We’ll protect you, they say, from everything.

For now, my dear, you can finally see.

And no nightmares shall blind you again.

Within me.

.

Oh, love – please be my muse;

For a feeling shall not hurt,

With words one might never speak.

And, if an idea is all I could wish for,

May it be the portrait of a shallow soul,

Painted on the canvas of a beloved one,

Who does not ask for more than

Absolutely nothing of the kind.

 .

Oh, please – do not come any closer;

For no more than what you are have

Been invited to the frivolous reality

Born within me. And, if you insist in

Playfully touching your golden eyelids

All over my face, just as a lover would do,

I shall believe once again that rainy days

Are nothing but the sweetest nightmares

And, when I finally embrace you, dreams will

Turn the words, that once fed me with glory,

In the horrible truth I’ve always been so afraid of.

 .

Oh, love, please! Do cease from existing;

For you are not real and shall never reach me.

Edible Material.

They are feeding me with worms.

Each one carefully chosen from a range

Of genuinely high quality delights.

.

And I do confess being fond of such a diversity

Of colors and shapes dancing in my mouth.

Foolish Magdalene.

.

She is a silly lamb - my foolish Magdalene.

A princess who dances with butterflies,

As she refuses to remember my name.

.

I have been pure during my whole life,

She keeps on saying,

And you are the one, lovely Prince,

Who must take all the blame.

For your mistakes, I shall not respond.

And for your imprudent actions, I will not pay.

But, Magdalene, could you have forgotten?

If I am a criminal, then, we are the same.

And, as your villain, I must remind you,

That you are not free from my sins;

And, if the guilt is to devour me,

It will also corrupt your wings!

Once again.

A Prince and an usual dream.

A castle, a hole; her secret world.

This time, a mask, keeping them apart.

Why am I here, she asked, visibly scared;

And he called her Magdalene.

Magdalene, the Lamb.

Who trips and falls.

Magdalene, the Lamb.

Who has learned to fall.

Upside down. Towards the sky.

The one he wants.

“So she is the coward one”, the big bad wolf said, smirking.

He wanted her. So she devoured him.

Or this is how it should’ve ended.