Night inside a empere of clouds bourning in flames,
Watches and doors by wings of birds, warns coming in
Rivers, iron winds aside museums shining in your eyes,
The death is a river slepping along mirrors of angels,
Apples and gun's in expressions as one bory showing
Teethes from adults at silvers hearts and a soul of
Ghost though deserts streets, fields of glass, farms
And trees amoung free green caves, houses and churches,
High storm, wine, castles and pleasures, Greek thinkers
In a tragic picture of Hamlet- Loneliness, abyss, idols,
Foxes, all right... This mourning is not a grey picture
Of Ulysses or Don Quixote, cause they live aside fears,
Bats as lies to children, they had been shining like a
Demon shadow, a grove of flowers in winter, i had to
Learn to Fly, ashes retorning in fire as phoenix at skies,
                            Light is condition to our summer