Diana Emanuela Tîrnăvean participates in the “Poetry” section of the International Literary Creation Competition, 4th edition, from Ocna Mureș, Romania. Diana Emanuela is 28 years old. We thank her for her participation and wish her success.

The angel’s shadow

Long I searched for hope and faith
In another to exterminate
Long I dreamed of sin to seed
In an angel cursed with greed
And happiness, no, intoxication
Filled my veins curled in vexation
When your silhouette appeared
Not close to mine, but very near.

Ah, should I describe the feeling
Which exceeded that of thrilling
When our shadows met on the ground?
Heavens! But what obsessed must I sound
I, the servant of sensations
Master of all hesitations
Didn’t stop to blink an eye
And curse my senses for their lie!
Our black clones below our feet
Without sound and without guilt
United with so great a passion
That felt so real in our dimension
Where our bodies didn’t touch
And yet my senses felt so much!

Cold and long as her only owner
My shadow, since always a loner
Awoke enclosed in warm embrace
At that time and in that place!
Ah, but my obsession grew
Not because her love for you
But because your handsome face
Allowed me to cause disgrace
To all the angles from above
To distress both peace and dove
And cause laughter in the ashes
As below your hazel lashes
There lay the entire sky
Enclosed in a simple socket
As if it searched for means to mock it!

Ah, but what great a mocker you proved to be!
Not just your caste, but also me
Believed in your sanctity
And it was all a fallacy!
Imagine me failing a crime
After too long and much a time
Of investing in your fall
Of making bird in animal!

There only stood a cut of wings
Between reality and dreams
But when my sharp nails searched to find
The feathers that you kept confined
Under your modern veils designed 
To keep them away from sight
The one who bled was me, not you.

Putting the iron aside
As all the strength which I had, died
The blood that flowed outside appeared
In my eyes too crystal clear
Ah, the ground which virgin ought to be
Welcomed too many like me
So under the weight it bore
Roots have died since way before
Our shadows met below it.
Ah, on this back seemed carved in stone
Too many sins were sown
Or do the many moles you own
Varying in size and zone
Stand as marks of extirpation?

Ah, the things which I searched for
Hope, faith and your wings, my angel!
They are –
No more…


Pandemos’s dream

Take Pandemos
Put her in my skull
And tell me if I lie
When I say that I
Seem to have acquired
An eye...
Let her in!
Transform me in a flower
When the earth will have devoured
Me.
Give back my vanity!
Remember my grace
The beauty of my face
The paleness of my skin
The terror of my dream
When I dreamed that I
Became a butterfly
Unable to fly…
Uncolored tears
Revealed all of my fears
When I thought that Pandemos
Was I –
A sleeping butterfly
Dreaming
That it was in fact I –
But she’s now in my eye
Able to cry
Or dream
I am no longer
For I did die
And Pandemos
Is visiting my eye
And sometimes she dreams
That instead of wings
 She has a vain corpse
With life but no force
A child-like face
A dose of cold grace
And she’s bearing the name
Of she who dreamed the same…
Or so she thought…

Maybe she will wake up crying
And full of terror she’ll start flying
When she’ll realize that
She dreamed the she was the head
Of she who is now dead
And whom she used as a bed…


Tell them

Tell them that you've never known me 
Nor did you see me smile or weep 
Tell them that you have no knowledge of my 
Thoughts, passions, or desires 
And that the sun shines brightly 
With or without me in front of it.
Tell them that my hands have never clasped you 
And whether they are red, white or black 
You’ve never knew 
But that you did see me passing 
And my existence annoyed the calm in you.

And yet a move you did not make 
For fear of breathing the same air 
As you were certain that my mouth was dying 
And my lips felt like a corpse's 
And the bride of none.

Tell them that the moonlight 
Shines on your hands just the same 
And black is not a color 
That it paints on them.

Tell them that you've never known me 
And you feel sorry for anyone who did 
As my shade was more formed than my body
And so when you did see me passing 
You saw none.
Tell them that you knew that a storm was coming 
And that the sea sang as loudly as it could 
But this time her performance cost nothing 
For what she took was just a shade...

And the price was paid by whom?

Who afforded such a thing
To put shade without a limb 
In the world's cold darkened womb 
Without roots to ever bloom?

Why did she take the only thing 
Only shade without a limb 
To live inside of her endless night
When you're the one conceived of moonlight?

Unguilt yourself by blaming song 
Of moon and water and the storm 
Cos knowledge of the heart you have none
For in the sea's womb –She – is barely formed.