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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=471157" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Brothers in a Glasshouse</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The silhouettes of many yesterdays<br>Floundered through the silent walls<br>Recounting how we roam these branches<br>Trespassing unnumbered rooms, <br>Filleting riddles from the harlequin moon, <br>Fishing through salient oceans, <br>Meandering with a pensive nonchalance<br>Like kings in a pompous parade<br>Bounded by a golden chain<br>And shorn by vindictive asymmetries</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But days fluttered without transition<br>We molted from the visage of our reflections<br>With gauche arrogance pouncing<br>From the tethers of this glasshouse<br>Sending mordant shudders on its frangibility <br>Whilst wrathful malcontent is forged from<br>The angrily hissing flames of distraught<br>Ricocheting like bullets mangling<br>Through the cavernous but elusive vault, <br>Your invitation still echoes through<br>The circles of these soliloquy<br>Like a labyrinthine hall ornately<br>Shuffled to hide the deepest room<br>Where the moon is such a vision<br>In a lake of sleeping mirrors</div><div style="margin:10px 0">How did this home burned down<br>Tarnishing our pristine reflections? <br>Our star-crossed visions bloated<br>From breathing under water; <br>Your nonplussed departure<br>Left blithely like a climate<br>Invited by an aubade<br>But why do you have to leave<br>This detrimental thunderstorms<br>Of shattered mirrors, memoirs, behind<br>Prancing for the wretchedness <br>Of my stirred penetralium? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I lived in these desolate waltz<br>Like a bard without a song<br>Wandering for your lost suppuration<br>And escaping from the serrations<br>Lashed by your inclement after-thought<br>I cussed at every mock you scorn<br>And futilely waited for a faceless<br>Answer to writhe the defiance<br>Aggravated by these mocking mirrors<br>And their livid insinuations <br>Tinkering the garish light<br>That once honed your immense shadow</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I stood across the line you drew -<br>A felled brother, a dogged contender<br>Frantic over these myopia<br>Inside the halls of eyes in plethora; <br>My own casted downwards, I capitulated<br>To the stupor of my demented legs<br>Shattering through the savageness<br>Wrought for a frenzied defense<br>I ran away from your pointing finger<br>Sloshing through the blood<br>Dripping from the sliver stabbed on my back<br>Hoping to come across that person<br>That I once knew and held <br>Eyes sleeping like a mirror<br>Brimming with an invitation</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In this glasshouse where we used to meander<br>Eating fire and drinking water<br>Walking through the thawing ice<br>Placidly on our plaintive eyes<br>How can we not see better<br>Of our own reflection - bloodstained<br>And savage in the leathery veneer<br>Safeguarding the brittle bones<br>Gnawed to the deepest dungeon<br>Where the clandestine volitions ruptured<br>Festooned by treacherous conflagrations</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I shrugged my encumbered shoulders<br>And lunged for the rock bottom<br>In the proximity of demise<br>And the woman that gave birth to it<br>I heard the bloodhounds bark<br>Ravaging at the strand of solace<br>That willowed like your final sigh<br>I saw them slavering, whetting fangs<br>Roused by a menacing hedonism<br>I let them trace the scent of my wretchedness<br>As I knelt to my last prayer<br>And waved too many goodbyes<br>To a brother incarcerated<br>Inside a deluded glasshouse.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Norman+Santos">Norman Santos</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=471157" data-title="Brothers in a Glasshouse de Norman Santos" data-description="The silhouettes of many yesterdays
Floundered through the silent walls
Recounting how we roam these branches
Trespassing unnumbered rooms, 
Filleting riddles from the harlequin moon, 
Fishing through salient oceans, 
Meandering with a pensive nonc..."></div>
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