domingo, 6 de maio de 2012


The people out there no longer sleep
As well the lights with their lovely form
When the silence comes to gently weep
It is the slum’s choice to enjoy the storm

The rats dance above our heads
The thoughts fade to feed the ill
The river cries between the sheds
As the skin feels the burning steel

The wind blows the infinite breath
The grass moves graciously as it digs out the storm
The heads keep spinning, licking pure death
The rain rushes angry as the rats still perform

The people out there no longer sleep
The night salutes the lonely crowd
Eyes peeking widely as my shout greets the streets
To wander as well you might be allowed