How roasting is numb death
when he sows his roots in his tower,
when he hovers in the abyss of a martyrdom
the eternal sacrifice of a love.

Lacerating walls in myriad crystals,
painful, nauseating and resentful
with paralysis of horrendous apostilles
that stick in dreams like splinters.

There is no way out of the green of her slander,
her grudge echoes and nightmare
who abhors the sentenced liturgy
that she defames infected
the dusty flow of the moth-eaten earth of her.

There are no longer feet to protect us from her mowing,
she lays down her maternal instincts,
curved idyll that wanders in suburbs
It is murderous death with landscapes.

It is the name that she loves the winters,
she diverts the environments,
she hardens the catafalque,
she is in a smug hurry,
engage with your caresses
the generous delights of luck.

Come on now she screams hallucinated,
Let's go from the auction take a wing,
she takes the lazy wind that is shipwrecked
in the echo of a life that goes out!

She dictates death.

Don't forget, my son, I'm with you
I am death in your emptiest spaces,
I am filling your existence with punishment
and I'm covering your dementia with mud.

I bear a cry crestfallen,
I bear eclipses and pains,
I am the prey of colors
provoking in your laughter,
grief in a hurry.

I promise nightmares
buried in words
usual sentinels
that bend into nothingness.

I wait for you in the ruins
stalked skin
with blood in agony,
suffocating my vergel.

I wait for you my son
with shattered bones
stinking, unseemly
of disgruntled ornaments
intimidated roguery
between finished tracks.

Come and consume my shrapnel
of a diminished brokenness
useful for rest
of the most fearful fear.