AS A LIGHTHOUSE

I have sailed
in the swirl of colorful fragments
in the kaleidoscope of memories
in the hope of finding love there.
The melancholy
misty
has pockmarked the walls of the soul.
A pain swollen with silence
has sealed the past in a cold dungeon
and a disillusionment rarefied in its contours
has chained oblivion.
The vesper is ready
to shape evanescent simulacra
to compose harmonies of remote dreams
to paint canvases of sober happiness.
The seesaw of my emotions,
it makes me an existential oxymoron.
The accumulation of years,
it seems like a dense nemesis of rain that 
makes the sadness more leaden.
I feel like a lighthouse
soaring over a nervous stretch of sea
while from the moon
like organza, I glimpse gliding
an avatar of love.
I lost my way
I stun myself
among myriads of rivulets
of sublime memories
and then I eclipse myself
in the stillness of abstract silhouettes.
The heart
sinks into somnolent inertia
strips itself of any sword
giving up the fight
to conquer the future.
A sound flies feebly
erratic
in the metaphysical transparency
of memories in delirium.
It is tonight a little dull no-worry breath 
of a fluttering breeze.
It carries the aromas
of a silent world
of a summer emotion
of a summer that rises
from the billows of the veins.
The stars let fall
a tepid mist of gold.
The days,
they seem like an endless ordeal.
The heart is weary of a world
where lies and truth mingle.
I still have a flock of chimeras
of boyish dreams
unstoppable.
I still have the rustle
of a yearning that melts
in the reverberation of a music box
that regenerates with new sap
among joyous wailing
among newborn 
great flashes of life.