YOU, YOU ONCE SAID ...
You, whose voice, like frost or feather,
stirs my nights with parting's breath ;
each word a prayer that burns like tether,
binding soul to fire and death.
At dawn, you speak with heart unheeding,
your whispers lost in morning’s haze;
your wounds, once deep, now merely fleeting,
reduced to coughs of passing days.
You once said, eyes turned away:
“I’ve lost the path I used to know.”
Words thrown like stones, no light, no stay,
still waiting for a truth to show.
You judge, no movement, no reprieve,
my love dismissed as thin disguise,
like drunken ghosts who will not leave,
you strike, and I must parry lies.
We bore not minds shaped by the same star,
born on shores the skies divide;
yet love, defiant, reached so far,
to draw two beating hearts to tide.
The fruit holds fast its secret lore,
the aged tree keeps leaves held tight;
though love lies buried in the floor,
it dares to bloom through storm and night.
Rasamindrakotroka Andry Tiana
May 25, 2025
Date de dernière mise à jour : Dim 25 mai 2025
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