The Conversion Means Nothing
Ihhhh
Time counts don't fade anymore
January whispered on the edge of the veranda
Splashing thin water accompanies dreams
Wounds list full of hospitality
For the longing to be wrapped in your name
Which becomes the link of the real soul even though it is gone
A reminder that we were together
I thought you were a word-lover
I thought you liked to laugh
I thought you liked us
It turns out we are just words
The heart has numb
Torn apart by the poison of romance
The blood splash scented with anxiety
The wound has not dried
put the silent body does not flinch
Buried in grief nestapa
Wounds above wounds
Let's be a story digger
About the tarnished loyalty
In the mayan stage
You're the one I call love
The wounds become real
Smiling behind the scenes
Hide the death fangs
I tried to string the word up for you
The abandoned temple
All for you
On a word that was never beautiful to you
At the handful of hearts I want to give
But it never came to your hands
Because you were never there for me
Your shadow
Cuba's between my sepals
Among the stories we have left behind
Against my race towards you
Only my race is scattered
At the silent cheering
The yanking hampa
Only the feeling drifted
In your shadow
I you called us
Wrapped weather miss
wishing ancient longing
I'm cutting it to pieces just looking for your look
To fulfill my wish
Forget the dark that once incised a wound
Unite the broken taste
Our story is not just unknown
The dove symbol of loyalty
The pigeons never break their promises
Like a sacred promise between you and me that's just a word
The grief-breaker I thought was love
Unspoken by word
Immobilize the body and soul
I guess miss turns out to be sembilu
You make me like a poet
That poured the wounds in every melody
I painted your face with crying hands and eyes
I send taste with feeling
Yet you give a blasphemous sorrow
The shackles still tightly clenched me
As if all hope is asking to be cut down
Getting close as if preventing him from leaving
To be heart-breaking for your own satisfaction
The giver of wounds
I try to put a lot of words together
Culling the rhythm of love
The meeting is just a space
Between a point and a comma
A love that leaves will never come back
The suffering is getting worse
The soul complaints continue to burn
Tortured by the wounds of feeling
When I said I would let you go
That's my worst lie
Restless continues to haunt me
The longing comes to my soul
The silent whisper of longing scratches my silent soul
Whimpering grievously in the depths of a desolate soul
Leave pain in the heart
Screaming when I miss visiting
Ordered the soul in lamentation of pain
Suffering despair at the irony
A string of characters with no meaning
Line of the temple died in the word
Yesterday's wounds were still not healed
I tried to write lara
Scratch the script about the wound with tear ink
The outpouring of feelings wasted by love
But I am not able
I was in a bed of love wounds
I fell silent within Nestapa's walls
I'm locked in a mess of romance
I shed tears of pain
Mute...
Sliver.....
Silence....
Vacuous.....
And solitude.....
Desperate in uncertainty
Night trumpets became lara's humming
Sharp blows not when I breathe
Desperate longs to be unraveled expressions of regret
Blasphemy longs to encroach on the heart
It's hurting......
Disappointed.....
The swearing of the serapun is cynical
My body was buried in tears
The limits of patience are eroded
In a never ending grudge
Orange spray on memories
Wound slashing drip tirta
The twilight wind swerved over the pedestal
Wet the gap of longing
Pushing hard on the silence
