Writer, author, short story writer, poet, youtuber, blogger.
In an instant, she began to gravitate into madness...
Whirlwinds of ideas raced through her brain,
and they being able not get out of the thunderous clamor
that manacled her reasoning.
Thirsty and snatched their reflection of being human.
Coherence and logic intertwined,
on crashing precipices and babbling thoughts.
A repetitive abstraction also lost its course,
mixing with the orates elements.
Poor woman! of admirable physical beauty.
Her grace lost between bars and mistreatment.
The asylum, enveloped her in a tangled world,
oscillating between reality and the subjectivity of an alternate universe.
Her trembling voice joins a chorus of lost souls.
Her calls for help, she can only issue to the spirits that surround her,
Her green eyes reflect the wall gray of the locked years.
Her soft wave hair, lost between the scissors of a treatment.
The freshness of a fews distant hours, they call she,
but, her cracked skin her stops .
Locked up are her past, present and future hours.
Not even her memories take pity on her,
who sneak into the darkest corner of her ancient brain.
Poor diva of orange summer evenings!
Soon her carnal wanderings will cease.
She will take refuge in safe astral zones,
her fruitless spirit.
She will leave her battered body
and her thoughts will release in the coherence
of true life.
The ideas cross platonic slopes,
in mad plunges of tenderness.
love fell from the star
that glows static inconsistencies.
Voices lit up
inside that virtual labyrinth.
The madness fades and leaves,
maybe on vacation.
The ghost woman
In an old house
inhabits a ghost woman.
She dances at night
with instrumental music.
which scares everyone.
She spins in her fluffy dress
of the fifteenth century.
She turns and sees things that no longer exist.
The ghost woman was a young blonde,
that never got married.
She was too young to love.
The ghost girl and semi transparent,
thinks she is still alive.
She is unaware of her reality.
But she will soon find out.
An emissary from above,
will inform you of her condition.
The ghost woman listens to the character,
and emits a chilling scream.
But if I'm only 17 years old! It's not possible.
All this it can't be hallucination. Nope!
If it is. The transparent entity responds.
It is your spectral mind,
that has devised everything what you see,
because you never wanted to accept the truth.
Four centuries have passed,
and your mind is stuck in the past.
The ghost faints and falls to the floor.
Finally, the entity realizes that it is a spectrum.
Upon awakening, he feels curiosity and crosses walls,
Seeks the light but can't find it.
She wonders: Why for so long
did not she know she was dead?
The messenger replies:
because you did not fulfill your mission.
Your mission to have children and to be happy,
it was your destiny to be happy.
But what I did? Why didn't I go with the light?
For the simple fact that you yourself took your own life.
and you were sentenced you to repeat
over and over again your existence.
But now your atonement is over,
you must ascend and contemplate the other probabilities
of life that your spirit will have if you incarnate
again, that only God knows.
© 2022 Venus Mary