Treasure Island

Luca Menin


Angel- God- Pray


Angel
Smell his skin of narcissus and underworlds.
The eyes are stars, attracting cosmic spaces.
Descendants of history, dark pasts' remover.
The disease of an angel
The angel himself.

God
The universe his power & behind.
Time and space, his though.
Natural selection, the hand of god.
The Life, his breath.
The beginning and the infinite are his age.
Humans are his joy and his pain.

Pray.
Lord forgives what we have been.
Amend what we are.
And direct what we shall be. A-man

Why we pray?
We are hunted.
In a reality of illusion, air.

Submitted: Wednesday, April 04, 2012
Edited: Friday, August 10, 2012
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