Matter Of Deadly Scorn. Poem by Sara Iglesias

Comforting shadows
Mountain that guards,
Humanity, corrupted and denounced
That its despicable gesture throws to me
Limbs, putrefacted and sick
A troubled look
Taste of tears of a shrinking heart
Which the gelid breeze and the blizzard
My gesture wrenches
I am the fury of affront
I am a ruined feat
Scraps of goodness
Were all hanged
I am a matter of deadly scorn
The seed of your tragedy
and roots of your dread,
Forgiveness got no burial
I could only kill what was due
Only a delirious mind
wants creation to worship its muddy feet
to later cuts its limbs when a quarrel comes
Humankind is as pure as their minds
as just as their slums
as healthy as their asylums.