Pálinka

I don’t know what to write to you.

I don’t know how to wrap this up.

And in reminiscing us

you are but a memory without a start.

 

On streets lain by oppression,

building blocks synthesised by pain,

you shelter your heart of nostalgia

with love as your shivering flame.

 

You have indulged in the fierce darkness

that unravelled with your loss

and having risen from the sadness

through greener grass you seem to emboss.

 

However, in your Phoenix rising,

you open up to what can’t be

and though you’ve gone through many lessons,

you don’t accept the love you receive.

 

Dear eyes of the mountain

that host the ocean in their core,

the stability you seek for

is the szeretet you want to allot.

 

The appearance of a unique soul

is just a lightning in the sky

but the sun’s healing warmth is different;

for it’s an ever-exploding star.

 

To see the sun you’re allocated

inside the Kingdom of the moon

and all your demons, fears and memories

sew the carpet of your monsoon.

 

Since you are standing, that era is over

and sunbeams draw your future steps,

your road is open, decorated with clover

and rose petals caress your legs.

 

Let the gold velvet land on your shoulders,

put the depression in a frame.

Of the silence become fonder

and so your demons will be tamed.

 

Make sure you are present in your kisses,

make sure you’re engaging in your embrace…

All that we are is simply shadows

in the eternal cycle of pain.

 

Do not write words for blurry faces,

put yourself first and sort your mind

and when you are looking in the mirror,

make sure you keep an open heart.

 

I could write words about feelings

but I don’t claim what I don’t own.

I am glad I met you in those streets,

sorry for marking my presence in your world.

 

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