Da Capo al Poetry

Sea of Sand

Deserted world, deserted soul,
Silent despair covers me whole,
Mirages come and quickly leave,
There’s nothing left, my mind to feed.

I walk and walk on burning sand,
So dull, so lost—I’m simply bland.
My colours start to fade away,
Much to my cruel and pure dismay.

No oasis here, none to be seen,
No sight of calm or vivid green,
No wind to ease my burning thirst,
Only a cruel, consuming curse…

A sea of sand, a sea of death,
All full of tears and of regret.
Just blurry eyes and empty heart
And there’s no hope, no sign of art.

– Patricia

Nothingness

The drought is here, it has arrived,
No drop of water has survived.
The emptiness has settled in,
Erasing all that could have been.

No sign of life, of breathing words,
No music heard, no stunning chords,
No art to see and none to give,
Nothing unique, my soul to feed.

All that is left, a deathless pause
Lengthens the stillness which arose,
Piercing my ears—a silent scream
Perpetuated by the dream.

A dream of greatness: incomplete,
Replaced by sour, cruel defeat.
A dream of wonders, each one gone,
Leaving creation far behind.

Just a deserted, empty shell,
With no more magic to compel.
The words are gone—flew with the wind,
While signs of art began to shrink.

Deserted shell and empty mind,
Deserted soul and empty heart,
Mirages dance so gracefully…
Blink of an eye: reality.

– Patricia

Canvas

A sea of red lays far ahead,
I wonder what it is.
I’m curious and I’m prepared
To know its mysteries.

And I come closer to the sea,
A sea of vivid red.
Its sight erases misery,
Engulfs me in a trance.

A sea of poppies everywhere,
Each full of promises.
Freedom of mind they all declare,
And unknown liberties.

I don’t look back, I don’t regret,
I lay down among red.
The world around me I forget
And no more tears I shed.

I’m now aware of my own red
That’s pulsing in my veins.
The poppies and the blood are meant
To show me victories.

I rise above the ancient world,
All stained with sorrow, grey.
I paint with poppies, all so bold,
My art knows no decay.

– Patricia

Midnight Silence

I walk alone on empty streets,
Surreal stillness all around.
To silence everything is bound
And peaceful steps my shadow meets.

Their sound echoes through new-born thoughts
Creating rhythm in my mind.
And in that music, I unwind
And so the moment stays and goes…

Tall, warming streetlights show my path,
So still, so present—city stars.
And, in their light, I see my scars,
Yet I forget the pain, the wrath.

On empty streets I walk alone,
Loving the silence and myself.
Ethereal peace I’ve never felt
Spreads through my being: I’m reborn.

– Patricia

The Climb

The climb was dreadful, full of tears,
Exhausting, painful, rich in fears,
The mountain tall, the peak unseen,
And reaching it—too far a dream.

With dangers lurking all around,
From high above and on the ground,
The climb was grey and oh, so long,
An endless nightmare, vivid, strong.

With famished vultures seeking prey,
With struggles growing day by day,
With piercing rocks waiting below,
The climb was dangerous, unknown.

The cliffs were cold against the skin,
Shivering breaths flew with the wind,
The body—pressed against the stone,
So tightly, hurting every bone.

Adversity in every way,
Each hopeful breath wanting to claim,
And yet the climb is now complete,
With bleeding hands and trembling feet.

The peak is silent, yet it speaks
And every enemy defeats.
The view is clear, the dream’s come true,
Now that the mountain’s been subdued.

– Patricia

Tonight.
The sky is home to dancing lights,
Which make me dream of hopeful nights.
Tonight, I feel that I will live,
I’m undefeated, I believe!
The Northern lights awake my soul,
They light my path, they light me whole.
I dance under the living sky:
Its wonders thus I glorify.

Tonight, magic is all around,
With rays of light above the ground.
Tonight, there’s beauty everywhere
And thus, to breathe and love I dare.
Magic becomes a part of me,
Filling my heart, in secrecy.
I stare up at the dancing veil
And I’m aware: light will prevail!

– Patricia

Dust and Dirt

I chase my dreams against the wind,
I struggle, losing everything.
They disappear—simply dust…
Oh, emptiness! Oh, what I’ve lost!

I chase my dreams against the storm.
They’re weaker, but they are reborn.
They disappear—simply dirt!
They have no meaning, no true worth…

I build my dreams from my own heart,
From broken pieces—every shard.
I shield them from the cruel world,
They’re so much more than passing mold!

I set them free at night. Like stars,
They light my way. I see no scars.
We walk together, side by side
And this time, I’m not left behind.

– Patricia

Lighthouse

The desperate soul tries to survive,
But ancient hope it can’t revive,
The waves are suffocating.

The sea is dark, heavy and deep,
Calling him to eternal sleep,
Calmly and surely waiting.

From high above, the sky cries tears,
Hunger and lust the sea reveals,
And pilgrim winds are blowing.

Nothing to see but sealed fate,
Long gone’s the tiny ray of faith,
Not even stars are glowing.

Exhausted eyelids start to close,
Sweet memories the soul recalls,
One final breath inhaling…

But what’s the light crossing the sea?
Salvation! No! Yes! Could it be?
It pierces through the darkness.

With one more struggle, one more try
It gives its final battle cry:
The will to live awakens!

The light is pulsing, vivid, strong,
The soul knows where it now belongs
And fights, its hope arising.

It struggles, following the light,
Its path now clear, shining so bright
And thus, it meets salvation.

– Patricia

Certainty

In peace I stood, knowing myself;
Or so I thought, with fragile roots.
I didn’t know my every breath
Was superficial—like my roots.

I started dancing, feeling free;
Took others’ hands and let them lead.
They took me far, away from me,
My heart was sore, started to bleed.

I looked around—I was alone;
Gullible, weak, dizzy, and lost.
Didn’t belong, away from home,
Prey to the unforgiving frost.

Yet from afar, a warm spring breeze
Kept calling me, showing the way.
Pink cherry flowers—my release!
I followed them without delay.

I grow my roots longer and strong,
Anchor myself to the soft ground
And softly murmur my own song
For my true self, to which I’m bound.

And still I dance, passion’s alive;
Deceiving hands I do not take.
I’ve found myself and I will thrive,
Forever rooted and awake.

– Patricia

Letting Go

Letting go

I come closer to the lake,
Piercing eyes are staring back.
They’re in pain and they’re awake,
And, yet, life is what they lack.

And around the lake I walk,
I come back to the same place.
Now they’re silent, they won’t talk.
Such distorted, vengeful face!

Round the lake I go again,
One more circle I complete.
And myself I don’t refrain,
Always stuck here, on repeat.

I move forward, yet I’m stuck;
I keep pacing in a trance.
Painful glimpses of the past
Keep me anchored to this place.

Till one day: I close my eyes,
Step by step, I walk away.
Stubborn being who defies
That chaotic, planned array.

Now the lake is far behind,
Memories of it are gone.
No more vengeance on my mind,
My true self I can become.

– Patricia