The flower of my illusion
the cold killed her
from a cruel winter
of ingratitude and pain.
Poor flower!

Today is grave and peace
of my lust for passion,
because it doesn’t come back anymore
what I loved in a frenzy.
Oh, what the kisses have done
that with rapture, you gave me …

Oblivion covered everything
with her sad cloak
for more to come back.
Being my first illusion
lonely grave
of my last love.
Vain oaths
from a burning mouth
with venom and curse;
but the recorded memory
like an eternal shroud,
about my soul,
sad covered her,
and that’s why in the dark
I am meditating,
wandering randomly
with your name written
like a sentence
of not being able to forget
the heart that loved you.

Because you saw the distance
between my faith and your ambition,
you killed my illusion
with the sharp dagger of fickleness.
Maybe remorse
make your eyes cry
because I gave you
my love and my faith,
for a nest to form.