Soul Crescendo under Death

[Estella]

You could oscillate infinitely
Under that corrosive laughter,
Feeble to do something against it.

Her hands were harsh, hot.
Irresistible, while lustful.
Meantime, calm, as henceforth
Slaughtered hippopotamus look,
The rain soaks the sore angles of time,
And it may seem more than natural
That you happened to be
In the death's precocious hands.

Nevertheless, distantly painful,
Infinitely bygone,
The shiny corpse of a life's instant
Could radiate in your maybe-mind
And your feet start thinking
And you no longer know,
What would you do with all that body of yours.
Blerim Katroshi
Copyright ©2002 Blerim Katroshi

[nikol]

Beautiful name, perhaps...just a little strange for the poem... too much passion anyway.