There is no more Mona Lisa around
Nor a miraculous Serenade in the
air
Even the inexhaustible Old
Guitarist
That once could enchant the world
Does not move his magic fingers
***
It seems we are journeying through
Another endless numbness epoch
Where time, space and just a few
Are the only conscious pilgrims
***
The rest are some darned ghosts,
Masked with copies of the Scream,
Hoping in vain that their silent
notes
Are reaching the ears of divine
universe
***
A group of happy baffled slaves
Who deem they are really
experiencing
The essence of life, love and
happiness
While are breathing their own
extinction
***
In this fussy period, just a few
are awake
A few sober pilgrims, who are
struggling
To find an everlasting escape hatch,
in order
To rescue the residents of global
Platonic Cave
M. Sirani 16.06.2015
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