Rómulo Pardo Urías English effort: poetry, thoughts and texts

Pixel Ocean

While the desert come

into my self

I write

again. This verse is templated

over the face

of rainy days.

Do I belong to anywhere?

The desert calls me

because my nature is wrong.

I can refuse the time

when I was one hope.

Now the desert of images

born in this hell planet

is scrolling my soul

to the deep pixel ocean.

 

No one could be my time

no one could be my tongue

no one could ever be my silence

and it’s all right.

I deserve this nobodyness

this shell of words

because my inner collapse

is written on this fire that eats me.

Where could I find the swallowing image

that grows in our souls?

No one can tell the true

because the true is a lie, one believed lie.

Anuncios

Deja un comentario

Este sitio usa Akismet para reducir el spam. Aprende cómo se procesan los datos de tus comentarios.