Categories
Narrative Poetry

Specimen

The moiras — the three goddesses of fate
I am not a simple person —
I rest my mind into other dimensions
Housed by some kind of alienated specimen
That talks to me as I sleep,
And that disperse as soon as the light shows its face;
I swim into some seas
That look like seaweeds and algae,
Of some sort of sandy past
That sticks into hairs and skin.
I play around on my paddling wheelbarrow boat,
Spun like a thread in the hands of the Moira
And my soldier of fate installs bitter thoughts
Into my heart, as if a reminder
Of my cruel designation as a mortal
Which imprisons gazillions of old atoms.
They travel into their own space universe
Aware of the tricks they play
Of the trouble they cause for a cause
And of the fear they instill into hearts and soul
As they childishly play with that skin I despise.
And as soon as when the light comes shining
On that part of my earth
I say to them goodbye
And we become mortals again... until then...
 

By Eiravel

I am married, and I have two sons. I live on the island of Mauritius. I love to write fiction, poems, and blog. I've self-published a science-fiction book (Darcocyte). I aspire to make a living through my creative writings. I am a very passionate person. I love the sublime and the strange; and I am also interested in all types and forms of art that pleases my mind.

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