Festivais

 Festivals 

Behind thin curtains, 

Where the wind is light, 

Through a polished touch, 

Transparent and visible, 

The lake breeze has been wearing away everything, 

Even my lifeless skin.

Leaning closer, 

I hear the moon talking to me, 

Telling me about the many nights I didn't sleep, 

As it shines right above its candlesticks, 

I can hear it again telling me to lie down, 

I ask the celestial bodies for forgiveness.

Watching now from the balcony, 

So far from my sight, 

Why than this my supposed end, 

And different from me, 

People in their sorrows, 

Going to livid fall festivals, 

Seem to be so normal?