I am the light kissing the rock,
You're the sand that keeps the Temple of Bel.
The heart of the sky opened and bled your word,
poured into the longest night, rivers of your lunacy.
Our first encounter was fortuitous as I fled from home,
I watched you from a tree lose yours to my incompetence.
You are no longer my armor,
I am no longer your Sedjahar.
Your claws and my claws,
lying in ashes.
Millions of threads hanging from your life.
The souls of my men,
the skin of your ghosts.
Devotion of your hands and the winter had conferred to you
a different ending, a true one.
I am the oldest tree planted in the citadel
nailed into the heart of the Perfect Flower.
And what if as I open the door
I couldn't serve that sweet poison to you?.
What if I couldn't even
serve it for myself?.
I refuse to see in you the power which children are born with,
You are the infinite truth that kings seek.
Red runs out, satin and grass,
games of the first age end now.
I extend through the eons
a different quest,
may the incarnation of your portents
brings you company and grace.
The night, the lamp, and the fear
they saw you shaking to the beat of my mouth,
panting like apprehension-dyed razors.
Days that happened and still happen
don't exist at all
I am the sour wine you'll drink in a corner
of your final hideout.
Originaly posted (spanish) on: http://wp.me/s43BVr-llave
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