Vesania

Silence Makes Noise

(Heartbeat arrhythmic)



Dusk, warm melting dusk,

Large room immensely high.

All around crowded porcelain,

Charming figures of glass.

Ballerinas shepherds popes,

Alchemic dreadful spells.

Wild formulas of the sorcerers.



Magical triangles,

Little green drowned man,

Old brown big leather-bound books.

Stuffed birds,

The swords long double-edged,

And the gorgets of gold....



The bats, withered roses,

Memories of childhood.

Voiceless broken flutes,

The devils, the saints, the clowns.



Dismal regiments of toy soldiers...



Awkward silhouettes of stone creatures,

Humdrum litanies of drunk-eyes gods.

Agamous devout knights in steel,

Paper masks and white flowers,

Dirty paintings blurred.



Amongst all those,

Slender shape of limp old man.

Playing the clavicord,

Old yellowed clavicord.

Playing incessantly eternally,

Persisting the immortal smile at white lips.

Immersed in the soft reverie,

Of this warm evening.



And the odd crowd packed all around,

Is listening still.

Nobly...

Subtly...