Shooting pains of wounds never hatched,
words caused by infected
poetry of the soul and body.
Days lost to look outside the vacuum
while life passes slowly
whirlwind of thoughts intoxicate the spirit
flowers unfold around us.
Playing with heart and mind
her voice bounces like an echo in a cave,
feel the fire goes out
purple flame that burns the soul.
Of light and darkness, of an imperfect
Altroquando,
ruled my mind with false images,
predicate my future with false words.
Vision uncertain existence,
beds will be our graves, and the light will be touching
slowly
giving way to oblivion.
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