Love

Misunderstood by time, I am in love 
with the wilderness 
of your gaze. 
A festive breeze is woven 
into the hair, 
bringing warmth and the scent 
of spring. 
 
If we dance without having 
a sense of rhythm, 
our hearts will finally find 
mirror images. 
Souls are still in love 
with their singing, they still 
avoid the most beautiful but neglected 
words. 
 
God, having lost his dominion 
over the world, 
has not recently abandoned 
his solitude on the edge of 
this decaying planet.

This Decaying Planet