~ Infans ~


In a maze of trapped
oblivion
memories reside
awaiting for you to
enlighten the path
from which you strayed.

Call out to the child
masked with solitude
in its cell of loneliness.
Hold it tightly.
Keep it warm.
't Is your ancestor,
't Is your child,
't Is the essence of your heart
't Is all that you hold dear,
the last flame in the dark.

Set it free.


A/N: A little word on the title of the second poem: "infans" is the Latin word for "child". Yet it is not only for this that I chose this word, because when you split the word into "in" and "fans", "in" means "in something", while "fans" is the present participle of "fare", "to speak". Sort of as if the speaker is trapped in speech. ;)