As I’ve said before, it all works in mysterious ways… Somehow, this poem has put itself together bit by bit, out of basically everything that came together and made up these past few days… It’s meant to be an arlabecca (for a slightly more comprehensive description of it, look it up here), which sounds more like an epitaph, I guess, and has more or less the form of an ensenhamen. It sounds much more pretentious than it actually is. 🙂
[Graves in Bellu Cemetery, Bucharest. Photo taken by me.]
Arlabecca
by Kalyiel
No space between and only time
Specked with capricious names and grime
To feed, to flood,
To fester and to snap the rod –
Unrelenting,
As if world was dis-creating…
Dessecrated,
Now that gods are satiated…
Passer, tell me –
Can you break the chains that weld me?
Encyclopaedia Vanitatum 