The beautiful soul
the mysterious unknown of man
it is a refined volcano
where all the sins of the world burn
and because in the ashes
there is only the past tense
the eruption
it will be the one that will enlighten us
I was a doctor
a surgeon in the operation room
on the table
there was an unheard melody
while I was touching it
the fingers of my hands
turned into
musical notes
I took the scalpel
but in my hand
I had a paintbrush
I dipped it into the melody
and started to paint
you will recognize the work
when you see it exhibited
About the Creator
Mihai Brinas
Mihai is the author of five collections of poems. Invitation to Poetry, Alignment of Thoughts, Crossroads, Thoughts That Bring Us Closer, and Connections.
Mihai keeps on writing while still believing in the power of honesty and love.
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Disarmament
They say there's no atheism in the foxhole. While I wasn't currently neck-deep in a river of soft sediment, I was still praying to whoever would listen. Why am I doing this again? I would ponder while staring at the device that in no less than a minute could be my undoing. I scanned each and every variable panel and commonplace button as I watched the bright red L.E.D ticker countdown. No wires to cut, no code to put in, there was only one way to stop this infernal machine, and that incurred perfect timing.
By James U. Rizzi3 days ago in Fiction
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