Earth shall heal,
The vaccine is already here
And what is to be,
Death shall still weave
Its subtle poetry
And Life shall still make of us
Slaves of its consciousness
Even if it realises not
That it is,
A slave of its own!
Earth shall heal though,
At least, it shall, in its own ways,
Even if nature shall still be destroyed,
Even if its resources shall still be abused of,
Even if some strata of the society shall
Still be disadvantaged,
Even if diseases warn not before they strike,
Earth shall heal,
And it shall keep revolving
For as long as the subtle forces
Guiding her, will want her to!
Isn't such the very essence of life,
To keep going regardless of
The stones pelted at it?
My only companions are solitude and music
In the first one, I find time to forge my inspiration
And in the second one, I channel my art
Into powerful notes moving enough
As to stir up the sleeping soul of Earth itself!
Music remains my passion, that form of art
Which paints sunny days in my darkest nights
And which bids me to embrace life
In a comforting embrace,
Even if all it offers me are the thorns
Of flowers which have been plucked
By some lucky hands!
When I indulge in my own solo symphony
I shrug off the weight hanging over my head,
Constantly pushing me into the bottomless
Pits which pave up the paths that have been set
For me and I become, the mighty Apollo,
With my notes, so emotional at times,
And yet, so moving and enticing at others!
I know, lovers listening to me hug and kiss each other
I know, the lost souls listening to me, shed some
While those basking in happiness,
Whistle along to my tunes,
Feeling my art pulsate in their own hearts!
Solitude and music shall remain my only companions
For as long as my breath would live in me,
As I feel like I live only in them!
The state of being dead scares me not
It has been written in holy books,
That being in this state
Requires being made of another nature,
Having forgotten everything
That makes up the human and physical essence!
What scares me
Is what comes before being dead;
Going through long term disease
Or suffering the blows of an accident,
Or even undergoing the horror of
Crime and abuse!
The world is a most scary place
And I keep making of my hymn up:
My imminent departure,
But since life is stronger and mightier
I do wonder
If I shall be allowed a smooth exit
Or if I shall have to go through
My destined path, with the heart
Of mighty lioness having grown
Way too old to fight
Mighty creatures of the forest,
Hungry for what remains of my flesh!