I - The Loss of a Learned Dream

I don’t remember where I first opened my eyes.
Time melted away with the rush inside me.
My excitement and my learned dream, my hope—
As all I thought I had was vanishing,
Life said: It’s not yours.

Is life not mine?
It hurt—
But I was light.


II – The Discourses of the Immortals

I thought I could grasp all I touched.
While circling the immediate,
I believed I could reach the indirect truths.
I believed—drowning in pain and rage, knowingly—
That I could change it all.

I drowned in pain—
The discourses of the immortals drowned in pain.
The world and its voices drowned too.

While embracing sides—superiority, pride, revenge, the victim, The executioner, the wheels watched from within,
The wheels forged from within.

The discourses of the immortals,
Afraid to die.


III – Poetry, the Creative Écriture

My pen became my refuge.
The meaning of my being.
The being of meaning.

As all shadows cracked the window of my room,
My words, born within red lights of truth,
Slipped from truth,
And wove the truth.

I discovered discourse here.
That I lived within the truth of discourse.
That discourse carries the truth.


IV – Where Is Sophia?

I sacrifice all my planets, all their reflections, all my poems.
Here they are, my love. Show yourself—for the sake of my life.
For me to see. These lines repeat in your absence,
As if they've all forgotten.
That they were for you.
As if they've all forgotten your absence.

Let me, my love—
Take your hand and bring an end to this repeating life.
Let me, my love—
Let the light of your face touch and find the human soul.
Let me, my love—
Let the smoke disperse.

You are my reason. And I remember that.