oh watchful master!
She always screamed.
The advent of the providence ended
the terror of civilization.
The nightmare is over,
and she can finally dream in the
vastness of wild.
Her soul isn't in the dark;
burrows to its surface are
dwelling with hope.
She has stopped hiding behind the veil,
instead fell in love with nature
and its ambivalence.
Now, there is cream
on the empty cone of mountains,
butterflies shower a million kisses
upon the flowers;
birches of the trees
laced with voices of the little ones,
and stars in the sky
outshine the moon.
this is about the night I lost lungs.
However, she continued breathing life
relaxing in her lover's arms.
There were several lines here that read quite dream-like, that I can't get out of my head:
"there is cream
on the empty cone of mountains,"
- I've never heard a description quite like that, so tranquil.
"this is about the night I lost lungs."
- This is the first time you used first person POV? I'm not sure if it was intentional. Perhaps you are speaking as kind of an omnipresent spirit that you lost your voice, yet there is still a cycle of life, a photosynthesis.
I found such a softness in your verses, an acknowledgement of the cruelty and fear that humanity and society can cause, then this release into nature. The nightmares are over, there is hope budding, there is peace finally.
Such a calming read. Hope to see more new work and hope you're doing well :)