Adalberto de Oliveira Souza

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                                           APOCALIPSE

 

 

                                               Enfileirados nos estrados

                                               do solar rarefeito

                                               a eito jazem

                                               apocaliticamente.

 

                                               Aprisionados

                                               por suas entranhas

                                               morreram todos.

                                               Envolve o ar

                                               a sanha incontida

                                               e louca

                                               deixada ainda.

                                               Odor de sangue e suor,

                                               incenso, nefelibata.

 

                                               A captação da graça

                                               do inefável virá,

                                               afável afago

                                               recessivo.

                                               Em riso desabrido

                                               Direi a ti.

 

                                               O porvir!