Please tell me, is it worth appreciating
the silence
that will eventually replace
you and your crimson breath?

Cured of my iconoclastic longing,
I am falling apart
like a house of cards
built by your whisper.

I am trying to free myself
from last year's sky, but I know
that you are still guarding
my soul.

Locked in my own shadow,
I raise a toast to a happier world.
When the last bell
falls silent, I will renounce
my freedom, I will forget
about loneliness.

An hour will be born
in me that knows neither light
nor penance.
Perhaps one morning
I will understand that victory
is not dedicated to me.

I will open my mouth,
close the window.
I am not afraid of tomorrow's
illusions, of another painless evening.