Millennia
Millennia go by like fleeting moments
incising lines in the wings of eternity
like sounds morphing cacophony
while nature’s green garment gets
intoxicated by the aroma of a lilac
and spreads its infinite smile
to the moon dipped in your tears.
The troglodyte stands in front
of the pompous high altar
he still trembles in fear, while
the modern shaman’s imposing
figure with the glittering tiara
always commands him to kneel,
his slavery is a smooth curse
he cannot escape.
The troglodyte still commanded
by the four Golden Gates of Heaven
holding him prisoner of the image.
Manolis Aligizakis 