All that the sun gives shadows
Sketches with its desires,
The people within the dome,
The thirst it uncovers.

All that the shadows might
Hide in its deft solitudes:
The dying of the light
That burns in elongated spaces,
The cry of life,
The murky depth of regret.

All that the people try to fill
Makes known the hole inside,
The strength of fear,
The aloneness like a blameless
Lamb to daily slaughter.

All I see drives me mad,
The palpable wounds we carry,
The hope in oblivion
That tastes of the sweat of the Earth,
The Earth that devours.

All is a dream,
No, a nightmare vertical,
The wound of the walking days,
The feverish rush to nowhere,
No one cares awaken.

    Everything,
All that is in one's perception,
The acceptance of sleepwalking
Drives me to insomnia,
      Dying with life,
      It sleeps on me
      Like a dead truth.