Assiduously, the gears pirouetted in their waltz <br />and the pendulum swayed with my inebriation <br />careening with all the lonely bones <br />and ephemeral montages and letters - <br />camouflaged in stone walls and iron eyes <br />like a gray madhouse without windows, <br />without doors; just a cage sheathing <br />the holocaust dislimning every breath <br /> <br />The cicatrix ailed and one by one <br />the hands of day reached out - <br />The rain soundlessly pummeling into sand, <br />the gyration of black figures in a storm, <br />the awakening of tulips on the lifted spring, <br />the stars promenading their diadems - <br />Life was blossoming at its best <br />because death is arriving like a thief <br /> <br />One by one, the world left <br />the labyrinthine cul-de-sac and <br />assailed into an empty saudade night <br />and one by one, my little hands <br />let go of your manifold vines and <br />swayed into the currents of dementia <br /> <br />Inside the wound of a lonely soul <br />I go gently, unfettered, unto this goodnight <br />where slumber is a luxurious peace <br />and remembering is an immovable feast <br />I shift, like constellations adrift the pensive sea <br />counting crows, feeling nothing <br />dreaming of being alive and the enviable, <br />bliss of being cradled in someone's dream <br />until the air let down the gilded stairs <br />and my Valkyrie arrives without a song.<br /><br />Norman Santos<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/until-my-valkyrie-arrives/
