Second Last Song for Dria
In stories I heard once,
sometimes the beast was cured
and could walk again
into the endless garden.
Dria,
if you stroked my voice tonight,
you would shudder and flee
like from a lover
from another birth…
for it’s a voice
that has forgotten
its own secrets…
it’s a voice
that froze last winter,
when snow came early;
now it would howl
in the inferno
of your gentle fingers, Dria
if you stroked my voice tonight
but if you saw me under the sky,
maybe you would laugh
at the costume that I am wearing
but it’s the only one I found
after they shut down
the theatre of ugly heroes…
this costume of an astronaut….
in stories I heard as a child,
beasts learnt to halleluiah
and costumes did wonders at night.
6 comments:
Dria,
if you stroked my voice tonight,
you would shudder and flee
like from a lover
from another birth…
for it’s a voice
that has forgotten
its own secrets…
One of your 'simpler' poems in a way... and one of the most touching as well... even as the identity of Dria remains a mystery. :)
This poem captured a moment somehow, and a very beautiful moment it was. Sad and beautiful.
some really lucky "dria"...whoevr she is....
ur poem touches some unheard n unsung corners of d heart....
The 'voice' u speak of is haunting... and I guess, we can all hear it, if we try to. Well, I hope 'Dria; does stroke that voice...
Sad but true, the beauty lies in the angst.
Waiting for u to receive the Nobel Prize, dude... rooting for u!
Kudos!
Cheers,
-Johnny Deep.
i like the name dria
i wish i were Dria! i wish one who lost me, lamented me the same way, called out to me the same way..!
astonishingly dark
-Tina
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