Nadège Ango-Obiang

Dreams of ash

Ash in the dish, tears in the belly
Wanders, death, the rancorous grief of the extinct eyes
Nothing blows on your sphere, yet well beings lives
Move in your elbow, bavent horrible harm
Your immobile tripe, connected with the treachery of men
 
Hours without knowing, crying without mobile
Reflections of the Cup, full of rust, a bitter rose
Be the black shadows fall point of who you know?
Near the wrinkles in your lips, just tiny 1 mm
When infected juice heats your teeth, blades of Calvary hone
 
And caused alarm on the walls of the invisible temple of your route
Say that you enjoy as time, space in you emptied
Disorders celebrate well any lower, negotiate any will their happiness
Hagard, unconscious, you feuillètes the pressure of the whip marks
In your soul which flutters. It is late, on the floor of fire, burning an omen
 
Your essence is derived from them, it is the currency they covet.
Hard to read in the flames of the gorge of the Angel of darkness
In his eyes made embers fed desires of the world
Flamberont these places, fall heaven, you're what I know. 

All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Nadège Ango-Obiang.
Published on e-Stories.org on 06/19/2011.

 
 

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