Everyday it passes by...
Through my rigid life...
Even without your insipid glance...
Even without your wither fortune..
Everyday it passes by...
That fear...
Fed by you...
Its makes me insane...
Everyday it passes by...
My feelings fights with cruel reality...
Desperation is on climax...
Wretched wishes of my poisoned heart...
Uffff....
Its make me insane...
Charade of life...
Sins from purgatory...
The mask of being authentic...
Why this all masks?
Confusions...
Shouldn't we behave according to our sensations?
Its make me insane...
One day you will go...
Far away from me...
That fear...
Pushed my fingers into my eyes...
But..
Don't you worry honey..
I'll give you...
Eternity of my love...
One day you'll go..
Its make me insane....
Insanity? ? anyway different breeze, still young and sweet!
You have a way with words that is quite original. There is authenticity and the pasion just breaks through.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Surely insanity without invitation arrives unwarned. The bed side of love watered by fear driven insanity. Surely insanity without a letter invites itself. For love far away once beside cuts like a knife not to kill but to torment.