Memorias de un hombre que no habla

I dreamed dreams
Of stories once told

Soñe con una lanza en el corazon
Con un baston de piedra
Con el que marcaban mi piel

Soñe con el frio mañanero
En el que todos los templos
Se encontraban vacios

Soñe con un grito en vano
De pobres y moribundos
Retorciendo gargantas fuegos tibios

Soñe con dias sin nombre
De meses rastreros
De años tortuosos

SOñe en el sueño
De mi cansancio
Que habia algo roto

Soñe mis huellas
Y mis garras
Que no tenian donde posarse

Soñe un recuerdo
De relojes gastados
Y piadosos insensibles

Y de todos estos sueños
Se levantaba un tufo
A muerte.

Circles

I walked
I ran
I fell
I traversed

I felt
I touched
I saw
I discovered

There was no signal
A point
Missing
An execution

Purposeless
Devoid
A thing
Not known

Where i stood
And where i ment to be
A place
Near and far

Aligned
Were the dots
And i was balancing
In between

Starting and ending
Stranded
In a motion
That never changed

Suspended
In the lines
Of my own
Choices

I was, am, will be
Or not.

Stygian halls

The wisp of a lantern ceases,
Held captive in a gloved hand,
Shaking in the trembling of an arm,
The call is made.

Come running, oh, beasts,
Turn the tides around,
Tear the rufiant's cloak,
Bite me, beligerant fools.

Chase the embers and
Give heed to terror,
Seek the running man,
Destroy that noise!

And beneath the facade
Glass most vibrant shatters
With a ringing of posthumous sense,
Alas, i cannot run anymore.

For whom escapes
The dire darkness
But with the faint glimmer
Of the dying light?