I can transform my pen in an arrow
to hunt the birds of the flying words,
I can install in the heart asylums
for my old desires and circles,
I can smile more often, killing the ideas,
inventing other masks for the clowns,
I can wash the sand, trying to discover
golden eyes, useless diamonds for blind men,
I can offer sets of dreams, proud,
to all the hungry souls who want to sleep,
but nothing of these things I do!

Because the time is too hot, too red,
together with the insanity's dry meat,
because the destiny's stars are gone,
only Death is wake in my mind port...