September 2

The decade welcomes me,
at the right time,
in which my eyes scream,
loneliness and condemnation.

The sea welcomes me,
without pretense or flattery,
but with the sun on my back...
in the most anonymous of waitings.

The salt of destiny,
recording in my pores,
traces of time passed,
and lines of bliss.

The decade welcomes me,
rhyming failures,
with songs of nevers,
and wrong verses.

Walled,
waiting for sunrises,
that illuminate the hope,
and sunsets that protect,
all the nostalgia.

I've walked through the four ways,
all wrong places,
choosing with haste,
all the steps and the screams.

I've put aside,
the beauty and the delight,
the steps drive away the divine...

Here,
from the center of history,
on the grim wall,
where rebellion dances on every stone,
I throw myself into the future,
with cloudy white eyes. 

I have sorrows again,
tattooed and etched,
in the flesh and in the soul,
insisting for laurels,
and clinging to the wait.

I have, even if it hurts,
the ballast of oblivion,
and the fragile memory,
before the moments of delirium.

I have bequeathed the world,
the incarnation of beauty,
in soft hands,
true eyes,
perfect smile,
and imperfect future.

I have also hurt...

I ask for forgiveness today,
the day wishes and hopes,
are formulated,
I apologize for all my mistakes.

I lift my head,
to praise to the sadness,
and I kneel too
in the same praise.

I'm the same as always,
son of the desert,
and heir to the promised void.

But I am also,
of heresies and blasphemies,
I have been expelled,
of the universal lie.

September invites,
to new caveats,
and good promises...
…just invites.

The decade welcomes me,
at my father's eyes,
and in my mother's womb,
I am theirs,
and they are mine...

Only memory moves us.

September is lethargic,
and it is October who is encouraged,
as the only promise to stop it.

One step in time,
of all the blessings,
while the rush subsides,
by dawn, the labyrinth,
over the eternal rest...