Zana di poesie

Along the path,
dark shadows
chase my soul.
They want to harm it,
I long to protect it.

I pant in silence,
weep in anguish,
endlessly,
without stopping.

Weary,
on the brink of death,
torn and in disbelief.
I can’t stop:
that would mean defeat.

… I invade, I destroy.
I am not content.
I seek, I imagine, I create.
I am not happy.
Nothing fulfills me,
only the void:
immense, exuberant.

I emerge
in a blood-drained land.
My blood no longer boils,
my tears no longer fall.
Tragedy no longer frightens me.

Still alive, at war.
Survivor, yet wrecked.
Annihilated or not…
I, we:
an image in a photograph.

Praised,
forgotten,
some honored,
so many others: DEAD.