With hands on chest
who can quell the adrenaline,
undressed
the delirium
forges the fall.
The fire gives way
to the battle weapon.
I postpone the heart
and the channel of its rain,
painting martyrdom,
of tomorrow,
in the air
my memory.
YOU ARE READING
When I close my door
PoetryI dedicate this work to all the friends who are left in the heart. To all those who love me. In When I close my door, a social interest and a renunciation for the sake of communication is explicit, the subject destroys his exterior, recomposes himse...
