MIDNIGHT HOUR
by Sorana Lucia Salomeia

In the deep silence of the night
An old clock strikes the midnight hour
And the mystery intensifies and fills the atmosphere
With every hoarse echo of the heavy strokes.

Another hour that has drowned
In the passing wave of time,
Another hour in my life…

What was I doing one year ago,
At the same hour?
Maybe falling in love,
Maybe laughing,
Or maybe I was crying.

Who bothers to remember?

We keep building illusions
And live from one illusion to another,
And so we forget how it is to be alive
And breathe the fresh, scented air every morning.

And suddenly we hear a strange voice
Whispering in our ears:
“This is the last of your illusions”

But we keep dreaming,
Forgetting what it is like
To fall into the kiss of life
And so we keep floating
On clouds of smoke
Filling our hearts with melancholy.

Time passes this way
And nothing really happens.
And suddenly a thought invades us
Like a wave of sorrow:

“Another hour of my life has passed away…”


Copyrighted © Sorana Salomeia, Iasi, Romania