The Final Journey
Echoes of emptiness
Hustle my heart
Like an empty vessel
Sailing without wind
On waters still
Among the isles of illusion rocks
Ahead
The corridor of fulfilled dreams
With vacant seats
For might, for happiness for dignity, me
Madness
Isolation
Mist
My trembling heart envisions
The meadows of graves
Shrouded with the fears
Of the wandering soul
Serpent the path
Becomes
Ravaged by pestilent winds
Drenched in purulent sunset
I am entering the realm of calmness
Where affect you no awareness no grief
In the flood of blackness
I whirl
In the face of my fallen memories
The eyes faint, gaze becomes blank
But pitiless as the sun
Scorching the shape and the shadow
Till they cease
There is no hiding
Before the death’s reflection
In loving memory of what might have been
The daring march has come to its halt
I pass the gate of solemnity
Paved with concept of living
In candles’ glare reflect the faces of my dreams
With ash so grim, so solemn yet elusive
I disperse
by Mateusz Turowski
