It trapped
The fire is extinguished, any flame would say more than their ashes, but all is finished little by little, the mature crying float with the smoke of the end without the souls of the beings they flow. The devils divided him all in the cold night of the late silences, the night in which I explode the shout of the solitude in the horizon, the night in which explore the abyss without feeling the empty one that later would arrive with the noise of the shadows, the sudden attack of the suffering and the clumsiness of the vigilance, but then metamorfaron al lost universe in which I inhabit with the interim And with the crisis by memory that enter me to your shadow and they reconstruct the silences and the sighs of the ones that were facts, al to pass the seconds memory the agony without liberty of the one that was prey in the tireless nights in your bed, memory also that in these letters I revive the sin of the one that I knew me loss, and that the wings for me will be prohibited.
Luz Elorza
Luz Elorza
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