Confiteor

Keeping Calm in Days of Thunder
Mea Culpa, Carpe Deum
White sheep's skin outgrown
White its Teeth are, white its Doom.
Not a Step away, nor hand
Nor prayer, nor in sand
Dropping sand stones one by one
Mea Culpa, sin has been undone.
The Red, the Black, the White
The Head, the Tail, the Lark
The Old World Tales do then prevail
in Stone, the Snake has bit its Tail.
Dried flowers do not grow
Of memories once so alive
No waters, Rain nor Thunder down below
Endangered species, lively show.
Once more, turn your face aside
And look, the eyes, the animal.
There spirit has no difference,
Abrupt abundance, merciless.
Mea Culpa, step aside
Let silent calm prevail.
Silent heartbeats, listening
What else time will reveal.
The sheep, we are, in all
the expectations magic ball
Of masks, red deaths, and frogs
As snakes, in splendour, on hot rocks.
Be kind, the old man said
Allow ears let in, and then forget
See the world in magic, laughter
Share your heart forever after.
Mea Culpa, old man said again
For all his sins, can't comprehend
With excuses with no goals
Against the death, strict walls.
(to be continued with some positive rhymes)
English, June, 27th, MMXVII

#whenyoureseventeen #confiteourmadmoiselle