Only a mirage

The deaf person melancholy of your eternity. The trances of the surges of your sobs. The rough pain of your furies. Rock the weaknesses of my infirmities. Composing the word for word sentences. Of a fragile and split monotonous world. Where glitter at night our cemeteries. The nervures of a temporary obsession. Waving in the labyrinth of a dead castle. In the grip of ravens and of ghosts. As the balance sheet and the sum. Of an infinity. Between the truth and the forgery. Bringing down the curtain. On the grimaces of sad and grey marionettes. Among which threads hanging at the end of your fingers. According to your faith and your laws. In the deaf person melancholy of your eternity. I approach, I shout you to wake up. Between passion and reason. You are only a mirage, an obsession.