czecelee

shadows of illusion

flesh, arise, cries
beneath the skin
the heart survives.
is this the end?
what of beneath?

the love, the life, the lies.
is it just the breath?
the beat? the flesh?

will it not stay forever?
or the fleshs' just,
shadows of illusion
illuminated by the sun.
the pain, the eyes.
that delusion 
of your presence.


is it really the end?
what lies beyond?
when not breathing,
not beating,
not seeing.

is the flesh just to touch?
the words to hear
the taste of the skin,
the kiss.

is this the end?
or our presence,
just a mere glimpse
into eternity?

the amaranth of infinity,
while the grave
awaits. 
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