and this memory carved at a moment to wash with a fast the rain
I scream on voice of sorrow
as if a tremble to remember for old time
they say that make me a wounded
because you done to act on humility
as if not able to receive
this pace try to stop at a tip for a waiting
to burn your rest that a fade more and more again
and this hope to desire me for a crashed in same place
a place where wound and tears wide of the laugh
as if fast to stab my pulse
this blood a flow to stream following my pain
your name very forceful for thought my right eyes
your name make a blind my conscience
for make me back be no mater more
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