Awakening

 The nothingness.

The oblivion.

The obvious.

The only three fruits of life’s eternal hopes.

The dismay of things undone,

After a life of toils and humorous cry,

Remember me your body of pleasure,

All your forgotten Princesses,

Laying down in the grass,

Naked,

Lying about their inner,

Hopes,

Distraught dreams of happiness,

Forever forgotten in the remains of the day.

And yet,

I stand up, vigorously,

From the pond where I lay,

And my yell of being,

A refusal of any defeat,

Linger, floating on the pebbles of the clear day.

And, forever, my angel wings

Remain silent, awaiting for Humankind’s awakening.