There's A Story
There's a story among my humble people.
There's a dream in the walls of my shiny cradle.
That one day I will cry and shout without the 'me'
And I will fly, caught, in the claws of a raven's memory.
There's a whisper winding through my humble people
That in a split and half and in between eternities
I will crawl like my wasted death, and so it is,
I will walk daring the forgotten path of all the fallen Gods
And there's a truth killing all my humble people without the common odds.
That I will find myself naked like a dying star
While thinking, hating, running, oh, so far
Through the raven's blood
Stilling its sacred wings of mud
Until the journey will become insane
Like my humanely absurd and infinitely falling rain.
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Comments about this poem (There's A Story by Cristian Carcu )
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
- Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(30 December 1865 – 18 January 1936)
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