In the valley of blasts
a row of jacarandas...

You go for a daily ritual
to water a passion tree...

The decay has?
killed the dream songs...

Widening the scope
you want to remain...

You want to cover your
amnesia. Death...

My little dirty moon,
why were you hiding...

Without pretension I try to dissect the truth
with a leap of faith...

For death of conflicts,
and conflicts of death...

Onlooker to your own empty life, you try to...
it was not that simple, to confess in silence...

Sound of footfalls was drawing near;
the tiger has been set free...

I want to be
eloquent, with myself...

Climbing
on the celestial pole...