Poem By Léon Caufijn
How strange it is.
To gain from a Void.
Utter Desolation well known.
During my Journeys.
I can not Imagine.
One person, an obstacle, Gone.
Reality still views what is Real.
And this Forsaken World is the Subliminal Truth.
The Aesthetics of Realism.
I can never deny that.
Never forget it nor not knowing it.
That is why I can never leave the claws of What is Real.
Light shines fractured instead as One.
A Priestess laying shared Devotion.
To 2 Deities.
That is What the Inner 'I' is telling.
Time flows in Aeons.
I am waiting.
Although I wither Unseen.
Devastation is coming stealthy and underneath my Flesh.
It is Illusive to feel Utterness.
When it is known that I drink from a Shattered Glass.
And it is Undeniable to not to Live in Reality.
Words try to view you into Pure Absences, Lacking...