This sun which embrace me...is not real
I live in a capsule,protected by the wind
No meeting is possible if is not made in the name of death
Or,infront of the helpless twailight.
Dosen't exist a snach who could unstruk me,
from the torpor which temper the beats of the world..
I've tuch again each sector of my face....
with the single purpose to fool the wolves.
Is good this continent who protects me
Dosen't exist words and tracks who can tell me what I am!
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