Blades of light and hands of rain
dance over the open sea,
while I sit and look on.

No one else looks over the cliffs
or walks the mid afternoon streets,
so only I see the molecules dance
and they dance only for me.

The naked cliffs and the cold wind
whisper around me, playing with my hair,
with my mind, with my darkness,
asking, mocking, accusing.

Where are now the places of your youth,
if not forever lost in your dreams?

Where are the endless fields of gold
and the olive groves where the sunlight went to play,
where are they now, if not buried inside your mind?

Where is your useless strength?
Where is your empty power?
Gone?
Wasted?

Where are the voices of your past?
Their songs, are they real
or just something your madness gave you?

I smile at the wind.
I step away, and go inland,
Away from the sea, to where I hear
the sounds of the past echo forever.
And ever,
In my feverish mind.