Description
These are the cities of carriages, and the windows of the desert do not know the old sleep, since the sunset in the departure of the wind, in the darkness of the path that marginalizes the mirage and so that the smoke does not burn alone, O hump, you look at the twilight that devours the dust alone, and on your face the morning wounded crying alone, and the inferno of thorns gives you an inferno The water and the clock in the throat of the moment digs a curse stray steps with satiety devouring the flame of wisdom knows the glow of a strange star Despair drives the wings of hawks to lost horizons Blue and vigil beats crazy drums and awakening at the door of a fugitive moon with a soloist Disappointment and this dawn hits his stick of oblivion. .
