over my weakened body
virgin night, and I from a faraway corner
await a dreary recurring of vainly desires
similar to a dream that has become stone.
A breath of wind in the sky
even the moon has risen
and you and only you candid night
can offer me the awaited peace.
But I am my own world
my own loneliness
and not free from my thoughts
I descend inside me and at every space
of my sterile delirium
I hear my heart beat voiceless
to the un existing shadows of my life,
and you are silent
perhaps forever.