Crusades

Never the desertion

My passion is accommodated to disorders

I raise my voice to enfranchise the unpronounceable words

The choirs will not melt in the unheard

I vibrate, this is my duty
I will search for long

I will meticulously lose the North

I will remain standing up facing with the dust

But the illusion only nourishes me with this azure love

So I won't change
At a low ebb of the absence always fierce and cold

Compelled are the words, a sheet covering me up

Nevertheless you can hear me

You came from so far
Passion baring a fluttering of eyelashes

The torment of craving

Still under the gas and the mud

The craving never drunk up

Regaining on the mucous membranes

The exhausting craving

But always balmy and heavy not to budge

On the strap that exiles me up to your edges

 June 2, 2011