The Garden

Since I was young, I was given a sky
And a timeless immunity to bask and unfold
On a home ground of limpidity and hysteria
Even then, I could choose my kind of demons
That was when I dismissed all my witnesses
And expected to be absolved either way simply
for having a sense of myself and both feet in
For having steady hands and hot running blood
Until this day nothing has ever quenched it
I watch the sky I was given and I wonder how
many times can I rebuild it until it matches
the land I've made myself free to roam
I inhale vows and exhale shards of wish and
let them pollinate all around by anemophily
And I've always been aware of the hurricanes
caused by an unique beating of my eyelids
As someone who always made music out of the
beating of a wild yet well-intentioned heart
When so very little remains from allegiances
And no breeze wields the scent of memories
I throw my hair back to gracefully adorn
the toilsome burden of freedom as I hear the
old voices of the world singing quando men vo
In a reverie, I have no beginning or ending
No reason, no right, no dark and no light
So take your draught years and stale faith
And place them on who'll honor the loss of
salvation to adopt the rules of decay
Because I live beyond anything accomplished