Nostalgia resembles a huge abyss
amidst the inextricable tangles of the heart.
It is as hard to bear as absence,
as much as the vain that survives,
where the fleeting moment goes untapped.
The lacerating pain fuels the energy and ardor
that are ghosts in the everyday.
Regrets manifest themselves like that of
a Fata Morgana
who has lost its way back.
They show up as the existence fantasized
and never actually lived.
Sorrows persist as deep openings,
bleeding like gashes,
to be healed entirely,
to be wholly relieved,
not to stop hoping,
not to feel disquiet,
to engage oneself
to recompose one's, broken heart.
Todos los derechos pertenecen a su autor. Ha sido publicado en e-Stories.org a solicitud de Mauro Montacchiesi.
Publicado en e-Stories.org el 16.10.2016.
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