Sonnet 20

The longing for my beauty bends a lot
those saddened bones I have to carry straight;
from legs to brain in pieces they will rot -
with helpless stanzas you'll confound my weight.

It's hard, you know... the gape devours my soul
when I confront the brightness of your eyes
and I shall dwell in darkness like a mole
that fights the sun until one fighter dies.

Be praised in life and glorified in death
your voice, your face, your deepness and your light
that bursts illusions from your flaming breath
and swims in twilight towards me, tonight.

Grow like a flower in my heart and stay,
not in this world to whom you'll be astray.

poem by Ionuț Popa (8 October 2008)
Submitted by Ionuț Popa
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