The Harp and the Abyss

The naked harp keeps sounding,

With echoes and darkness

As I keep looking down

the dark abyss.

It is an alien silence,

of a death that touches me

and ghostly I am

looking at its depth.

All I do is shout,

melodies with no memories

while the harp keeps harping

in my loneliness.

All I hear is echoes,

but I don't see a hand,

Only a dim light coming from me,

but the rest is dark.

I look at that dark abyss

which is like death and birth,

if there is light at the end of the tunnel

this tunnel does not have it.

All I see is a dark abyss

of depth untold,

feeling afraid to fly on it,

because I don't know

whether this is a cage,

or a tunnel with light at its end.

And the harp keeps sounding,

its strings are made of my nerves,

every string this harp has

gives me pain.

And all I can do is shout

unsure of scape or end,

usure of whether this is

birth of death.

And the alien silence,

gets in my skin,

I feel its sensation

penetrating me,

like a cool feeling of mint

that crawls on it,

it is the alien silence,

part of the darkness that surrounds me.

(c) Pekky Marquez, 2007