I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine

Life spirals out of control before it can be caught
It disappoints the most deserving of people
Breaks hearts,
Breaks minds
Holds onto the deepest insecurities
And corrupts you,
It can hold miracles,
But only for those who search
Search for love
Search for pain
Passion,
It creates us
Creates our bones, our blood, our souls
The fire that drives us runs out
Our bodies tired, old and fragile
Second chances cannot be
The only choice, push through the pain
Hold on to tranquil memories
Lost loves, our own creations
Our art of living,
Is needed to be wrapped into us
Intertwining between heart beats
Laughter and hope,
At the end all we’re left with is regret
The what if
The longing of turning back the clock
Or ending our lives sooner than they had begun
We are born dead, only through life, agony and lust
Are we truly alive
Reborn anew,
Many never born at all.

A desire so deep; a cliff too steep,
A vision not spoke in the night when I woke

If only I'd known, I wasn't alone,
in this small simple though, my tongue'd be caught
in the clench of my jaw, and put halt to the paw,

And the flight of the disc would be put at great risk,
by the bank of the brook, with the strength that it took,
to keep one's word, and doubt what I heard.

Though I know not to vie, for soon I shall lie

Under the glow of The Moon.