strike the keyboard ...
I do not hold a pencil,
I 'm shy to the paper ...
It didn't have been so easy
me to be finally convinced!
Whatever was strangling me
Perhaps what I say
seems ephemeral.
But in fact it's a trace
Of a voiceless soul.
I actually feel redeemed
When Erato or Euterpe
are coming to visit me
In my lonely nights.
It's a dark mystery
coming from my conscience
A feast of expression
to which YOU are listening.
Oh yes! Enthusiasm
Is flooding me when
I feel like I'm talking to YOU
And you endlessly listen.
YOU unfold my
Space-time by
Offering to me the drunkenness
Of an eternal moan ...
