Erotic and dreamlike still in its mortal disguise
A passionate ritual in the ruined garden theatre
The painted angels - shadowed high above.
Once they gathered to worship at the picture of me.
Like a whisper where there are no words,
Appears the perplexed - the statue of might.
In the cradle of the next generation,
A spiraling ruin - lost in the gathering dust.
...The faces you saw in the withering garden.
I witnessed the flikering - made to look like stone.
Quivering like little figures lost in broken flames,
Never to forget again the names carved in horrid flesh.
Those words drawn in water - become our legacy of fantasies!
Burn the pictures,
So unexpected in this strange deserted place.
Once opened, its secrets would become the world,
Its attributes would continue to unfold forever.
"Through the fabric of the promised future aeons,
I offer this suffering of my unwanted father..."
...And the stars did wander - separated in the forbidden universe!
Writer(s): Stian Tomt Thoresen
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