Prologue Poem by Agatha Eliza

for you, the sky means fluttering wings of angels,
and the music descending from the spheres,
when harmony is scratched to rags..
symphony of tears, when everything falls apart
but all you imagine is a serene vault, lightened!

inside your mind, another clear dream is outlined,
an eden with sweet clouds, and watterfalls,
where tender love songs resound..
unfaded echo, through green gardens and woods
uttered by godless voices of unearthly creatures.

nostalgic poems scatter upon the funeral decorum,
yet silence makes way once my tired hands
stop writing tragedy of autumn..
a brittle candle can't light your face again
when the moth-eaten curtains fall, burdened by time.