Emptiness Poem by Vinicius Santos Oliveira

You've stolen the words
I've been trying to write in vain
Empty sheets wet by the tears
of those left to die in the rain

Looking outside,
nothing more than the will to live,
the will to die.
I see the light,
The leaves fly through the freezing wind
Like the shadow of those who sinned

The rain stops
The grass smells so good
Tears dry down my face
While I try to light a fire in my fireplace

I put fire in the wood
Those empty papers go to the fireplace too
Papers, some minced words typed, drawings of my son
I hold them
Then I grab the picture of the widow, called my wife
and remember how we used to drink wine

The portrait tight against my chest
The thirst for her breast
I cannot go back again,
no more.
Half sad, half bored
Nothing left, but the papers I carry
Bearing the pain of death
Maybe the heavens can accept the dead.