Voices under the Sun 陽光下的聲音

 

Here you come again,

my dark serpent, veiled

in murderous midnight,

with bridges burdened

by their weary weight.

There’s no escape, only

silent wings flapping,

bursting into flames,

their cries pained crimson,

dripping, unknown.

Your music haunts,

slithering, smothering,

stalking the vacuum.

The found is lost, the once,

dismissed, discarded, dead.

What do I have left

but your tail, twirling

a horizon faltering, eroded

as I stare, by promises

so close yet so far away.