"Here is my secret. It is very simple: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.."- Antoine de Saint Exupéry

Posts tagged “Night

Night

Mass of stone
I become
as my night falls
dreams of memory, dreams of life
travel through my frozen mind
a solitude greater than life
invades me
as I lay down and
die for another night.

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memyselfandela, 2013

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Phot: google, Ben Gossens


The Sea at Night

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Photos: Adela Galasiu, September 2014


Rose

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the night crystallizes truths
despite of all the imperfections
in the crevasses of my broken soul
left at the end of the day with
raw images of degradation and fragments
from fights of silent dragons and demons,
of humans rifted in the damnation to feel only nothingness
because they have nothing holy in their soul,
though they deserve angel shapes.

truly pure love is the one
that gives itself whole, without  judgement,
with no hope of reward
with complete oblivion of all fruits and all joy,
of all gratification, of all praise and ego.
the one that does not build temples for
his self satisfaction, his wisdom or nobleness.
this love is the condescendent eye
on all creature, the rose that blooms in the winter frost.

there’s no way above this nightmare
that is at the same time lesson and life
but to give love to all, without any expectation.
no angels walk on this ground,
they must leave us so we can make our own choices.
there’s no oneness but the one
we freely give to stranger and foe.
there’s no wholeness but love,
and if you don’t have it, give it
and if you can’t imagine it, create it.

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200 words, memyselfandela, 2013


At Night

At night
She holds you
In her warm embrace
Quiet companion
You’ve got her
Under your skin.

———————-

Poem: memyselfandela, © Adela Galasiu 2013

Image: http://womeninadvertisements.blogspot.co.uk


the light

days of silence will follow
and nights of sadness
and dreams of agony
but remember, always:
do not lose hope
there’s a light that never dies.


Kiss

and then she kissed him
where the sea begins
his lips reviving hers
her soul crying

the last kiss, lost in a deep past
when she carried the night deep inside
when she did not see the end comming
when he did not think of oblivion

http://schtiel.wordpress.com/2011/06/24/kuss/


good evening my love

“good evening my love, I wait for you as from Heaven
to bring me continents of pale mistery
with this train, personal and lonely…
good evening my love, I wait for you as if
only our love would exist on Earth
higher than praises, than falls, than words…”

Buna seara iubito/ Good evening my love, LUCIAN AVRAMESCU