L.F. dos Santos

Distracted Thoughts


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the unjustifiable.

      She wore an invisible cloak as a talisman, as a shield.

      A magic hood with a white rose sprinkled with blood imprinted

      to conceal to protect her from the merciless claws of

      fate.

       The Ark

      God has reserved this paradise

      for a haven of a myriad of living species.

      Below the radiant sun is veil

      masked by the golden clouds

      In this arch where hope prospers.

      Among the yellow, greens, and brown

      that painted the sane quietness of the milieu.

      Time in snail is pace beguiles me,

      and the spirit of her,

      my precious.

       Victory

      Her first win

      standard of hard work

      and devotion

      the constant improvements

      attained inch by inch

      bruise after bruise in the past

      catapulted her

      with the aura of excellence

      to the present.

      Champagne still bubbles

      between her lips

      the flavour associated

      to the victory

      fills her heart with joy.

       Angel-or-Demon

      Heaven and hell

      darkness and light

      dwelling in this temple

      in consonance

      since the dawn of time.

      On this dim light stage

      shadows collide

      wearing beauty from living forms.

      Gelid look corporal poems

      mechanical expressions

      mirroring transcendence in her affray.

      On this pedestal of men

      where the „tamest“ majestic creature

      veiled by the light

      dances in trance

      endeavouring in dramatic moves.

      Surreal pirouettes reverberating

      waves of joy

      to feed her ravenous demons.

       The Hood

      Drown in yesterday is waters,

      her mother succumbed,

      soaked in alcohol and pills.

      Shadows of grey tainted and marbled in sorrow

      the face of a joyful girl of eleven.

      Her eyes reddened drenched by tears

      obscured by a muddy, torn hood.

      Concealing the purple stains of grief

      carved on her childlike skinny face.

      A perturbed soul demanding care,

      wasted and thrown into the darkest side of the abyss.

      Screaming on the inside

      lamenting while suffering.

      Blaming herself,

      for the burden of being born.

       The Stage

      A dancing cloud of kaleidoscopic smoke

      shimmering in the holy stage.

      Vibrating at the sound of the violin

      in complicity the crowd stands,

      applauding in a plethora.

      The nightmare was rough

      induced by insecurity,

      but the success is overwhelming.

      Instead of drowning and sinking in the ocean.

      Like a newborn star,

      she is shining on the stage is pedestal.

       Luscious

      Her teeth pressing his flesh

      in a concupiscent gesture.

      Flowing gently whilst descend

      flurry dismissed their conscious minds.

      Lust scatters candid and proud

      physiques like magnets

      interplay in their eloquence.

      Accurately in its flow

      fire rising ardent in the core

      blood effervescently boils.

      Intimacy attached

      in an extroverted ardour.

      Endorphin conspicuously disobedient

      galloping to its culmination.

      Their frames trembling

      succumb to fiercely desire.

       The Hermit

      Arching to the conventional summon of life

      for the second time deforming its structure

      establishing in that way the balance.

      Exposing its branches

      like wings piercing the sprayed fragments

      scattered through the winds

      without harming its roots.

      Churning, embracing, the untamed menace.

      In the same way men,

      courteous, remarkable,

      develop while living.

      Withstand the coarse environment

      depending on bestowed trifles

      building strategies to step the future.

      It is in the struggle of surviving that the senses are sharpened

      preventing with strong foundations against all the odds.

      In a freely seclusion searching for answers,

      for divine nourishment.

      Striving to convey love instead of void

      in its mossy hermit lap, where life spread

      in every inch of virgin soil.

      A home, a place to settle down, a paradise on earth.

       The Crime

      The day is gloomy,

      the air is cold difficult to breathe in.

      The haze proudly spreads intensity

      below the bright park is wood bench.

      Leaves