Ataraxy

the weeping of leaden caddis soaks minutes into their luberly perplexity,
as the echo of a fluid quietude resounds within the virtual armour of identity,
becoming a vade-mecum of saturnian farces and sand in the eyes
of a cynical foetus whose narrow perception is immune to blank lies.

hanging by the numb pendulum, with absurd arms humming a prayer
whose hypnotical verses are an hymn to a sexagenarian slayer,
without realising their endeavours... so fade and concrete,
regardless their skills, will never be able to draw infinite.

a stray thought goes to sleep, cuddled by the icy caress of whispering snakes
which gently trace a trembling smile on the surface of those muddy lakes,
diving within tormentous minds and lustily sipping their aquatic fantacy,
until the former intricate geometry becomes delirious... ataraxy