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The essence of the hero

Thoughts turbid, shackled hands,
higher consciousness, blurred vision,
dream behind the dream, down with childish innocence

a wall, the essence of myself.

Armored our words,

and we reject the looks we alternate being misunderstood,
souls lost in oblivion,
in an unreal world.

Heaven and Hell,
love and hate, fear
life and death,
sway the lady in black,
sensual creature of a fairy world.

Molecules of thoughts surrounding us impatient

us back in the den of the beast,
awakening the conscience of the hero,
ready to fight his inner monster.

Scent of life,
papillae taste the bitter taste,
of words created in the infinite, while heavenly bodies

mate in an explosion of ways.

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Death of a poet

The time of revenge comes to an end,
slowly dying inside, I start to
the sacred gardens of Eden.

aware of what is happening,
reluctant for the fulfillment of the fate,
my time is approaching inexorably.

Days in the past to think,
to what will become of us,
until the bitter consciousness coming to an end.

My dear reader, our minutes are counted,
long time, fades
unhealthy days in the hourglass of life.

hand our last moments,
grains of sand flow,
without being able to stop for a second time.

My end is imminent,
I wanted to create something personal,
dream I wanted a different life. The blood flows inside

reluctant
my body aging
my thoughts fragment of a memory.

But even if the company will soon worms,
player you do not kill my words, they subdue
facts and make me forever.

You and only you can make me live forever in your thoughts
,
ago that my words are not lost in the twilight of the evening.

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the poet's soul


me dying light dims the mind,
alcoholic spirit that lies within me.


My soul is kept in a shell of flesh & bone.

I have cut my hands to stop fighting

but my mind sings a romance to freedom.

Falsehood
soul my love lies in a tomb cardboard.

Fables collected in a book,
tales of lusty women and principles unhealthy
times of war and false feelings.


Truth dies in a bed a virgin.