steady
to horizon,
sails unfurled, ready to
fly over wishes and dreams, with
bright face
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steady
to horizon,
sails unfurled, ready to
fly over wishes and dreams, with
bright face
bright face
like the bright moon
brightens the nights of my
life like the bright sun unveiling
at dawn
at dawn
Rome's tradition
returns with Horace' slaked
persona drawing Aristotle's
good sense
good sense
makes you feel good;
makes others feel good as
well; good sense also leads you to
drink bane
drink bane,
as Socrates,
would worry Plato when
reflecting on biblical fare
betides
betides
often the gloom
and glum the heart but the
life goes on and on on its steam
till last.
till last,
in Socrates
pure heart, that out might rise
the fabled myth of Adonis'
bloom coaxed
bloom coaxed,
nothing happened,
the pink rose bud withered
in the sirocco unable
to bloom
To Bloom?
Not you! Please, no!
To turn into something!
Horrible, uncontrollable
Resist!
Resist!
Will you? What for?
There is suffering enough;
If you want to escalate it
Resist!
Resist
fight to the end
the desire to submerge
your soul in the swamp of all souls
Rise up!
Rise up?
Pfft, My dear boy,
I know and, hell, you know
that I'll be standing over you ready
to push.
Rise up!
stand erect
shoulders straight head up
only then you can conquer what
you want
to push
someone into
the bog of suspicion
is like pulling a crocodile
by nose.
by nose
was Christian-reared
Cecilia dragged out past
the lions' cages to return
judgment