The Dark Messiah, I bring you
the Sun on a silver plater
of conscience, hungry for hope.
I give you back the tenderness,
fertility and freedom
that you constantly pursue.

I am not the same word
that escaped from your lips.
I do not associate myself
with the thought that wounds
the thin skin of the mind.

The Dark Messiah, take off
these shackles from yourself,
throw off the thorny shadow
from your back.
I will dance so that you will hear
about my existence.

I will fall in love with you
so much that all people will doubt
the proximity of heaven.
Distracted, enslaved by a glass dream,
I delight in the journey
of your hands on the map
of my body.

The Dark Messiah, I have found enough
truth in myself to resurrect
the overpopulated lie.

I'm setting out on a journey,
even though the scarlet stars
are not in my favor.

I follow the light on your temple,
ready to dress in glory,
to become familiar
with eternity.

I omit the crumbs of passion,
I part with the closeness
I so ardently desire.

The Dark Messiah, I visit your
vanished horizon, I fall at the feet
of your heart.
Will you give me a handful of mist,
so that the mundane farewell
will stop bothering me?

On the beads of tears that I count down
the days I miss and look for.

Lend me a little truth -
let the future become a pretext
for returning.

It is only a petrified hope,
nothing more.
It's just one unfinished breath.

I am falling apart in the cradle
of your naked hands.
My body, nailed to the cross
of heaven, tries to please
silence.

I touch your delicate wrists
subtly, I read the prophecy
and the lost heartbeat
in them.

I approach your vast chest,
I search for the stars on it
that would show me
the way back to love.

My sticky fingers brush
your green words; thoughts
envy their own names.

Covered with a blanket
woven from your dream,
I long to reconcile with my soul,
to regain control of my heart.

Please, kiss my temples, let me
feel the glow
of your broad shadow.
I am not the lie that youth
fights for.