As the night is descending
And I feel its gentle touch
Embrace me once more,
I want to run and fade into
The tender nothingness
Of the darkness, whispering
My poetry to the wind,
So I may lose my consistency
And fall apart,
To merge with everything
I have never known
And leave nothing
But a fluent memory,
A shadow
Of a wandering soul.
Nevertheless I remain
To face a new reddening
Of the horizon.
The only witness
Of my inner dematerialization,
The only ocean which
Absorbs me every night,
Is the black ink
That drops down
From my feather
Onto the fragile innocence
And fading pureness
Of white paper.
Sophie Aduial
