All images are © Copyright Rosa Cobos 2013 – All rights reserved
A vain progress towards madness.
Filtered visión of the trumpeted brain.
Out of that Silence, echoes of silver blood,
that the stars have left in open prespiration,
such is the breathing of the Goddess.
Wrong….all is wrong in that certainty.
The unique versión of a Cosmic Lie.
What is was is not there, all wrong.
And they promise me more Soul,
as soon as i would open the strange box,
a lid closed so tight as blackness,
A key hanging from the inside eyes sockets,
that a Vestal Moon is about to use and open.
Did I make a promise.
And if I did..
Was I to feed that fire,
inside the swollen planet?
Was I to entertain the creatures,
that wandered around the corners
of a tired and old piece of Heaven?
Good night my goshtly sailor,
You wished to fish my thoughts with bait
endured with your molten desires.
You did throw the nets made out of jellyfishes.
You sent to me to dream and sleep in the vanity.
Evanescency, what it was not there and still was.
And for my oblivion, the moon moaned long.
And for my sanity, the Sun cherished her song.
© Copyright Rosa Cobos 2013 – All rights reserved.
This composition has been done with the blending of my own stock photos and creation of textures with digital fractal tools, all of them merged and worked with Photoshop.