Collection of Dead Portraits

I feel they stare at me

With their eyes closed

Sleeping and defenseless

Like their existence were

From the past remains and pieces

Like my forgotten episodes

Confined in old book's dust

Fire

In this court you are convicted of treason

You are condemned to be erased

Remember the darkness

Colors have disappeared

Lost in the new born texture

Your hidden childhood anguish so quiet

Your faces move around the deafening silence

Lost name

I can hear your screams under my fingers

I tear the pages away, crush them

Collection of dead portraits

Never mind this desperate howling

None can understand

Killing you once again doesn't matter

Something has devoured me

Rage and conflict burn

Sweet and terrifying

You are just things

All the pages I've ripped willl be back in vain

To torture me and play my inner theater again

The candle's flame makes the lines of your silhouette dance

Mom you look so beautiful in pieces