...
To feel no more, no more to fall
In love for pain, such dark abiss
Where never shines a ray of bliss
And bitter souls are coldly small
I have refused, for once and all
To sense in me this senseless fix
That nothing is, a phantom kiss
A bended knee, a hopeless call.
My heart is now a closed window
In wich the curtains are still...
And motionless, the only will
Of my spirit, this wasted meadow
Where feelings will not cross again
After the physical pass of pain.