miércoles, 14 de diciembre de 2011



The night wants to close in itself
Knowing that the darkness that it releases
It does, by law, the sky under which somebody walks
If by mistake, it confused the light with colors.

And any way the intentions are weary
Bordering the old enthusiasm like a dance
That of was accomplished pretends to form a foundation
On which it appears correct to build a scale.

But nothing is so simple
Once inside, at only two steps from the entrance of the temple
By now there are forgotten the stairs leading to the atrium
By now there isn’t money for the price of the beginning of the journey.

The pressure doesn’t stop
Constancy is its essence
And it’s not with intelligence that can be endured
But with the confrontation that belittles defiance

In the conviction for which only one mind
Can connect with another focusing a new point
In the spiral that some day can be considered as a net
Such as formerly, the fire was considered a source of heat.

Different intensities for the same variables
The doubt of one who searches for trust
The defense that always presents
The one who fears to continue being wounded

But on other levels
With the four planes spreading
The dimension that is breathed and the one that it isn’t
Since, it doesn’t pertain to the surrounding of the tangible.

The beginning always clumsy, where courage is created
Because the soul has already attempted the distant brightness
Even living the reality of something impossible
Measuring existence or scarcity in the amount of perseverance

That is necessary not only to give a step forward
But to sustain the rhythm of the race
When it’s discovered that the direction was wrong
And what is hard is not to accept it, but to take up again the path
As if there is harm in the sin, only in repairing it will be forgiveness