Haris’s Morning On a Lake In The Mountains

Morning On a Lake In The Mountains By Michail Shneider

There, I feel translucent like eternal blue,
melted through transcendence,
I merge with air and disappear,
like bubbles on the surface of that heavenly lake,
right there, where everything begins,
and where it all ends.

There, where I’m not, I’m just a morning mist,
guarding the tranquility of the surface,
from any kind of inquietude,
in search of the meaning of my own existence.
There, I’m just a voice; a voice
that vanishes into the eternal blue.

When all the nights banish the mornings
and imprison them in a cage of insomnia,
hours will spill out over me and, I will
take the form of a night spook,
there, where my soul shall go, right there,
where everything begins, and where it all ends.

There, where I feel like stale melancholy,
and oh God do I love that feeling,
I’m just a drop in a universe of mystical waters,
with no beginning and with no end.
There, I’m translucent air and mist,
on the lake, in the dawn,
I’m a shadow of a universe endlessly blue and
unrealistically enchanting.

Inspired By:

Morning On a Lake In The Mountains