Love is mute

One day I was visiting this gallery…

A tremendous place where time remains suspended

On a string of images.

Walking all over the halls of creativity,

And admiring everything

With the twisting of my face,

I got disturbed by this painting

That was telling an enchanting story …

And while searching for the rhymes

That form its colors,

I observed the details of its beauty …

That moment in time

When lovers are too insane,

Lost in this unbearable whirl

Of both sweetness and madness …

Caught up deep inside of each other

… in a place called silence.

Here they survive like some bewildered artists

With a leg in the sacred reality

While the other one struggling

In the impossible profane.

When I hear the blues, I get emotional,

Each of them whispers.

Lost in these emotions

They are desperately searching

For a piece of the hideous reality

In which to hide.

Lovers … these aliens from the ordinary,

These heroes of their own stories…

Am I the only one that feels this from distance?

They keep asking.

They say love is blind…

I`d say love is mute instead

Like the ocean in its role of a storyteller

When the waves are continuously

Declaiming verses,

When messages are sent from far away

And yet felt so close,

Burning the skin,

Disturbing the heart,

Making the brain wild.

Love is mute

And yet so alive and trembling.

(Copyright©2014 All rights reserved LiterAnART)


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