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INÊS MARTO

INÊS MARTO

In English #3 - "Still Left"

So many things still left to say,
But all the words seem to stay,
No matter what, trapped there inside,
Like bombs made of feelings,
Again and again, collide...

 

So many tears still left to cry,
Like shining starts, under the night sky...
And one by one, alone, they fall
Rolling down her face,
Like drops of crystal...

In English #2 - "Draining"

Suddenly all of it is petrifying,
Tearing me apart, fading, crying
Drop by drop, like tears raining,
Emotions and thoughts,
It's all so draining.

 

And when it all seems to be crumbling down,
It's all so dark, there comes no dawn...
With no more breaths, or words to say
Only the cold numbness seems to stay.

In English #1 - "Like Cascade Falls"

There she was, in the same old chair,
Letting it flow, like dust in the air.
Hoping for emply dreams in vain,
Mentally travelling in a paper plane.

 

Absent minded, gazing empty walls
Running thoughts, racing dreams,
Like cascade falls.
She wrote nonsense lines,
Endless rhymes,
Longing to fulfill that big black hole
In floods made of words,
So she was again - whole.

Midnight Raven...

[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="490"]Image From: http://illlusio.tumblr.com/post/48796310316[/caption]

This overwhelming feeling that can't be named, this a dark veil of shivers that floats around me, soaring in the air...  like a cascade of ice cold water, running through what still remains of an old ghost soul... penetrating it and tearing it apart in a midnight dance...that dark hair and that mysterious scent... and that natural wonder... and all of this together, slowly flowing, breaking this soul apart... setting free a spirit that was forgotten in time... becoming alive in a metamorphosis of too strong feelings to bear... a yell echoes in that dark rusty mind... the "here"and the "now" seem to vanish, and there is nothing more than two haunted fragile souls, looking into each other... soaking, inhaling, absorving that substance in the air... just being, remaining...

Oh , the attraction, like a magnet pulling into that soul, drowning it in that sea of stronger and stronger doubt and spikes and faster breathing... and the fight that it creates within, restraining an overwhelmed heart... and those alabaster lustreless skins, each vein like a perfect drawing of the beautiful creature owning it, like a tiny little way into a huge complex maze ...

And like a raven in the night it is - the ghost, the shattered muse -  inspiring the poet inside me... and those fragile lips, and those enchanted hands... that way of sweetly whispering each word... and those half broken hopes... oh those half fallen dreams... the obscure reality in every detail of that perfect body and magnetic soul...And then the sad times when I suddenly realize it is nothing but a dream... the deep echoes go away, and that pearl-white smile that melts everything around into a beautiful world is nowhere to be seen anymore...Suddenly I wake up...And it's all no more than rushed heartbeats and wishes blown into the wind, and it's nothing but dreams falling down like raindrops... and a lighter me, and, no doubt, a sweeter blood running through my veins... and the fading memories in a remaining shiver...