Sunday, 12 July 2015

The last words

The last words have been uttered, but I keep to repeat them depriving them of any meaning. The jolly days have by now gone, leaving just the regret of not have used them in a better way. In the tiredness of moments deprived of any interest a suspended time drags itself, a wait unaware of what could come with the morrow. While the flames of desires wither and die out one by one, the spirit demands a rebirth that I still deny to it and the body loses the ability of feeling sensations which are not intertwined with sorrow.

It's time to leave back everything which drags me to the ground, time to let my fantasy soaring in a wild flight, time to taste the life. Ah, how many time have I repeated these words to myself? How many time have I belied them, then plunging again into the sorrow again? Because actually, since the first step, I've entered into that world hidden behind the shuttered mirror: that world I tried to shape and failed to. In this world I'm Bisanzio, suspended between two different worlds and two different eras, incapable to go back and unable to move forward. And this malady of reverie is part of my character, it's the source of my creativity, it's something that hardly I'll give up. Because it's all that I own.

This malady of reverie is all that is really mine, and you must be damned special for me to agree in trading it for your beautiful eyes.

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