Inspired by Kush, Vladimir - Moonlight Sonata
For once, there was no grief; under the starless sky the snob-snotted man started to play. “I wish I could be able to see it”, people moaned, whilst the man turned invisible pages; “I wish I could touch it” said the husky runt standing behind me, which makes me think… why? Spoiling the art of a magician’d spoil them, let him play, let him roam, sail for and through us.
The war was now over as we were in awe, our vests entangled by his mastery, dripping, watery fingers; my heart’d feel the ache that my ears didn’t, the crumbling notes echoing in between my rotten flesh were as reminders for all the souls we sucked during the first part of the final bout, there’d be no fan that could sweep the ashes, the same ashes that we thought ours.
I looked up for maybe the tenth time in a while and I spotted it. It wasn’t the moon like I’ve grown used to see, although feeling like a deity, my feet reminded me to negate the paranormal, glancing once more to the liar that moves oceans; I couldn’t help but to think that it was his work.
Is he me, what is he; dream, reality… assist me, show me the truth.
“The concert is now over, I vanish.”
de Francisco Chagas 11ºA (2012/2013)
Nota: Texto publicado com a autorização de Francisco Chagas , do 11º A (2012/2013). Qualquer reprodução sem a sua autorização atenta contra os princípios dos direitos de autor.