By: M. Robles Tarzo
And the night that comes and shakes his name
I curse the ground that kills my instinct
Captive reflection of Lost Time
My name scream my bloody tears.
I be without reflection and unnamed walk
at night that is lost
at the beginning of centuries
My fiery eyes, my tears cursed.
Absent from my own shadow,
From my own name, my own destiny,
From my wandering old blood with me,
From my withered hands, my crying damn.
Moonless night to accompany my sorrows
And wrap you my instinct,
Sing to the truth not to play with me,
Rip me crying damn hard.
From my memories of times past
There are vain; see birth, growth, flowering,
Culture ambiguous you did at my birth.
And with my hands touching the letter
And wielding guards, from the presence of the day,
The guardian of the threshold.
The wind playing with my voice without force
Surrounding my body and raises my calm,
I do not want my father yelling at destination
Not seeing my reflection and not hear my crying damn.
Night you beheld Chaldean culture,
Witnessing Rome, Babylon the Great
See burned Sodom and Gomorrah,
You failed me, or my damn crying.
I will be waking up from a nightmare
They contemplate the birth of the endless night
I will be the ghost to sleep with you
And I always dream about my damn crying.
Night I wandered unnoticed
Viewing my hands, feeling forgotten,
I do not curse me wandering entity,
Follow me forever with my tears … damn!