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New Age

Author: Alexander Aldarow    (all articles by this author)


No traces

I am for you


Sonnet XI and 1/2

The coming of the Goddess

No traces

One of a kind among the races:

The Man Who Leaves No Traces.

Lost in the mob with million faces:

The Man Who Leaves No Traces.

He walked through desert of damnation,

the man without a nation.

He crossed the forest of relief,

and hadn't moved a leaf.

His breath has touched the ancient walls,

but he received no calls.

Was it a curse or mere blessing?

No one can stop the guessing.

He watched the dying of the stars,

collapsing as some broken jars,

beheld the birth of saints and rain,

but still his footprints don't remain.

He traveled Time and Deepest Spaces,

The Man Who Leaves No Traces.

Embrace his everlasting journey?

I am for you

I am the whistle of the wind,

I am the whisper of the fiend

I'm here

I am the black hole of the gun

I am the species that is gone

I'm near

I read the stars and breathe the dust

I am the guide you cannot trust

I hear

I am the king of hills and clouds

I am the frozen talk of crowds

No tear

I am the din of falling leaves

Find me among the folk beliefs

Have no fear



Lock the Reaper in the casket,

Send the worms back to the basket,

Find the youth in lands of lore,

Behold - I live forever more.

Should I lie in soiled bed,

Or just cheat the death instead?

Should I die so they can glee,

Or just fling the lid and flee?

Who is to control my course?

I shall drink from Krishna's source.

Peaceful Heaven? Thanks a lot!

I'm the one to choose my lot.

I'm the one, I am divine,

Immortality's my wine.

I won't walk the feared Valley,

Won't be slain by arms of Kali;

I won't cross the river Styx,

Won't be hanged on crucifix.

I shall outlive the Ocean,

I possess immortal potion.

World is my gigantic lung,

I recall when it was young?



Sonnet XI and 1/2

Do you recall the time that passed for us,

When innocence was our guarding elf?

That time is past, and flowers turned to dust;

You don't know me, and I don't know myself.

Those books we read, those games we played, the joys,

Like our childish love, they are forgotten.

You can't recall it, and I have no choice

But to agree that heart of love is rotten.

You called me "Dream", and I called you "The Sun".

We loved each other, Earth, the stars, the sky...

In spite of that, the pure lust has gone,

And nothing left for me but cry and die.

With every thought you think without me

It less remains in world from me to be.



The coming of the Goddess

Stopped my breath for apparition,

Many eons of preparation,

Until on day, pre-set for ages,

I saw you coming from the heaven.

Monks and Druids, Hasids, Buddhists,

New Age prophets, metaphysics,

All awaited your arrival,

You awaited just our meeting.

Hair made of hope and rainbow,

Face is clearer than the clouds,

Eyes are lakes, and mouth is river,

Woman, mother, lover, goddess.

Are you Isis? Lilith? Kali?

Hundred names for one conception.

You're the spouse of Messiah,

Cleopatra of the Nature?

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