Hay Algo Más Tonto En La Vida

Day-colored Wine, Night-colored Wine, Wine With Purple Feet Or Wine With Topaz Blood, Wine, Starry Child Of Earth.

O Merry, Merry, Merry, Like Only Dogs Know How To Be Happy And Nothing More, With An Absolute Shameless Nature.

Poetry Is An Act Of Peace.

Raw Hatred Took Its Time Making An Outpost Of Its Rage And Prepared For Me A Savage Crown With Rusty, Bloodstained Spikes. It Wasn't Pride That Made Me Keep My Heart At A Distance From Such Terror, Nor Did I Waste On Revenge Or The Pursuit Of Power The Forces That Came From My Selfish Griefs Or My Accumulated Joys. It Was Something Else-my Helplessness.

I Crave Your Mouth, Your Voice, Your Hair. Silent And Starving, I Prowl Through The Streets. Bread Does Not Nourish Me, Dawn Disrupts Me, All Day I Hunt For The Liquid Measure Of Your Steps.