Hatred

I Confess that I dreamed you down on your knees,
with blood of tears in your hands,
begging pardon.

You were dragging your pride of insect,
and your upset lips were stuttering
all kinds of pain.

I did not let you recover.
The request of your words
was doing echo in my empty heart.
And one by one,
the drops of your eyes were lashes in your soul
and prizes in mine.

You will dry your own weeping some day
with the same hands
that touched another skin.

And I will be who grows more...

Damned revenge

At The end you have died
and I prefer not to burying you.
To do it would be as to hide the hatred
and to swallow the rancor.
I must to calm my soul
looking as your meat rots
and your eyes dry off under the pale autumn Sun.
The same Sun that saw how was born
one of the most horrifying histories of love
and that now dries my happy weeping,
while I look at the tomb...
... That you will never have!!!

My steps without your feet

My feet do not follow your hurried steps,
which advance with the force of his motive adult.
My aching steps lack from your guide
and between so much semidarkness they will get lost.

I have seen your absence to come in the nights,
it embraces me and kisses me up to the dawn.
I hate its presence as hatred my silence,
it will will to remain up to the end of my life.

Without voice as accepting a penalty of death,
I submit to your departure with resignation.
Even if I shout your name you do not return,
my breath becomes extinct and my voice goes out.

And this way without your shade ultimately I have remained,
searching in my corners a little bit of you.
Crying to the luck and his dark destiny,
dying in the cold of my steps without your feet.

And you were not

And then I knew that I was losing you.
In that moment, the blood of the Sun was flooding the space.
The gulls, sad, were crying.
While the breeze was an ice under the infernal sky.

And then I knew that you would not return.
In that moment, The blood of the Sun already was becoming extinct.
My soul, sad, was crying.
While the heat of your body accompanied to the breeze.

And then I knew that I would die.
In that moment, the damned moon put into mourning to the tide.
My eyes, without life, of weeping were dying.
While my skin, without your shade, was an ice of breeze.

And I was dying.
And you were not.
And you already were not.