Im Memoriam

The streets grew narrow,
with our small cage
above the rooftops.
Our literate friend
led us, way down,
till we reached our destination,
and I felt his blew
over my shoulders.
Imaginary.

Dreaming,
below celestial statues,
with some clues,
left by ancestors,
past & future.
Present, too subtle for a thought.

The river.
Indispensable
With boats and ships and bridges.
History & myth,
so intensely scattered,
a thorough grasp,
a vision of lords.

Faces.
He changed them in a shake,
throwing glimpses
from his proscenium theatre,
over the man of mold.
Immortal.

Passing fancy,
by the street of twilight,
and the evening of life.
Beyond the doors,
in strict confidence,
the history will keep us guessing.
But it's hardened
into stone and window.

Silence awaited us,
and I tightened my grip,
while we were passing by the shadows,
through the dead stoned forrest.
The monuments of passing
and the promenade concert,
throbbing in our ears.
We encountered the final stage...
Where such a story ends,
another one begins.
Myths & Glory.

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