I've outgrown my own imagination and spent my youth on what was not yet needed. Maybe an escape will steal from the present the little bits of the past i've left behind. Here i'll be cheerful, imaginative and cheifly inconsistant. I might get gloomy though... Hopefully untied to myself.
Monday, November 20, 2006
poema 25
Escamas gruesas
cubiertas por un jugo ácido,
por un dolor,
un aura aterrorizante.
Escamas de grandeza
que proyecta un cobarde
oculto en odio
y arrogancia,
en escamas putrefactas.
Escamas purulentas
detrás de donde
se esconde
su nada de alma negra, espesa.
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