Where the flowers arrive
in which the shadow sighs
the serene sea is surrounded by souls
who do not find knowledge.
Yet the sound of a perpetual lamentation re-emerges
unspeakable, insatiable
but nourished by love.
I find my origin full of brilliant horizons
and my Hand writes without sense
with expectations and patient.
Would I be a winner
only if I lost the immensity of my skies?
The greyness infuses
the gloomy fog expands
bewitching light of infinite hope
between stars is lost.
What an explosion of heat
it burns attention
to those of color who do not grieve
and enjoy themselves.