sábado, 29 de setembro de 2012

Someone Lies

I have no need of imagination,
the spare time is null.
I could be done with my frustration,
but then I'd always be dull,
and I could never rest -
to be full,
or a fool.

Someone sights my black eyes,
they're poisoned and empty.
The moments would be lies,
and I've sold all my rights;
With pleasure foretold,
for Someone to die old.

Letters that I never sent,
poorly written masterpieces.
Oh, the time I've spent
creating hollows with emotional scent!

I wish that you will never die,
because that would make me cry.
Well, Someone is sad,
and speaking of which;
I'm just a little glad.

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