Could I deny these rushing tears?
Washing slowly the noisy dust of your words
At the door of anxiety’s mind
Where the monsters of your treason
Have assembled their rally.
I should convert them in certain fiery screams
Across a river of sorrow.
Over there the refrains of my innocence
Might meet the new era’s solace
Which is erasing some ethics values from our plate
For the sake of freedom’s phrase,
Arguing that the liberty itself
Is a politically correct gift above deity morals.
Yet the path looks prickly and unsettled
Mixing hot mess energies,
Questioning the veracity of your playing feelings.
Could I deny these tears bleeding across my heart?
Featuring the ache trapped in my chest,
Blurring the emotions to a higher stage.
I should seek the hands of forgiveness
Touching the forehead of earth,
Nearing the unseen worlds
With my dissimilar heavy heart.
© Simona Prilogan,