Dead  Cities  of  Syria  -  Virus

Dancing  on  the  surface  of  my  eyes

the  acoustics  of  the  sands

The  swarming  song  inside  the  heat

of  the  breath  of  dead  sleep

That  rocks  the  empty  boats

tied  up  to  the  barren  shores

and  pounded  by  crumbling  forts

I've  found  the  dead  cities  of  Syria

lost  in  the  sands

The  grains  of  ghosts

and  traces  of  (various)  apocalypses

and  of  men  never  born

Smouldered,  harassed  and  bothered

where  the  stood,  angelically,

shoulder  to  shoulder

In  solitary  landscapes  empty  men  watches

Delicate  pigments  of  gone  silhouettes

There  was  life  here

before  the  sands  swept  through  the  waters

and  replaced  the  rapids

and  sung  and  howled  in  between  the  houses