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In these times of imprisoned silence
where the echo of the soul murmurs its sorrow,
I am attracted, I am obsessed by the paths of love,
those hidden paths, the chain of life.
I walk among shadows of a latent desire,
under leaden skies that hide the instant,
the scatological sprouts in the dense mist,
whispers the secrets that time makes constant.
The hours slip away in the cold penumbra,
and reason is torn between raw thoughts,
logic cracks before the fire that scorches,
while a heart sobs in its walls.
I forget the mundane, I cling to the absurd,
to the touch of your laughter that entangles my mind,
for love is a game of broken mirrors,
where the scatological becomes mere surrender.