To criticize the delusions is the routine
practiced by the prudent
in the face of contagion.
Pride makes the difference
and opens the door late, or early,
when the time (new dawn)
is ridden by the pandemic
and invades the structures,
secrets,
obscurities,
galloping wildly to finish
memory,
to take the bodies to the mirror
and that these are marked
with the stains of their own mess.
To possess the delusions is, perhaps,
to go as victims to the guillotine of the inquisitor,
to bear it all, to nourish faith, to choose other friends,
to stand apart from the crowd and to converse until the truths.
To be infected is to reach the goal
and to justify the wrong steps.
After all,
who doesn´t carry a hint of delirium
in the DNA of their sanity?
YOU ARE READING
When I close my door
PoesíaI 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...
