You are a labyrinth
where i get lost
without it being friday
and I can't find the way out
-either-
nor the door,
window
nor the marked line
take me
to the place,
any,
where your smile
tell me that I have arrived.
The remains remain
in the path
like seeds that never
they are going to germinate
and the screams
they belong to others
alien to this plane
among other planes
that remain perplexed
as if they were human
and the silence
that peeks out
weak
behind that horizon
that has no gods
there will be no new world
one last wind
will take the remains
blind and dark