Who cares about the infinity
or the deep blue sky?
No one climb the mountain
to reach the pure oxygen
and we are not animals,
we are trashed hearts.
Behind our meaning
is lost our sense.
Who try to be immortal again?
And the day, that pick up our destiny,
fly around our family and girlfriend
to make us seen the latest trick of security whisper:
again we leave our hearts to fill in by pressure
the last tense of climbing our souls and we lose
every single memory about life,
and living things are all to holly source
of luxury and success and this writing of nothingness.
So why are we touching some crystals screens now?
When every single piece of earth breaths again
we will not shall climb the surface of love.
Categorías:Rómulo Pardo Urías escribe