Lying on the grass, gaping

With eyes fixed on the vast expanse

Overwhelmed by a thousand memories, O torment

About the times on which I loved without fears


After a few hours in that torture

I discovered a candid situation portrayed

And precipitating my mortal thoughts

I noticed that they were not going away


The memories that were evoked as rivers

Resting on the grass, now my devils


And in that agony that seemed perpetual

And dragged by the iniquitous irony

Lying on the grass, conspicuously

My remembrances did not let go


With the complicity of the vastness of the sky

Delivering my body to the ground without veil

The letters were dying laying on the floor

Killing the poetry it kept with zeal


And dying the strophes in my hand

Being able not to rescue them from the plane

They kept my thoughts on the plain

Where I placed my body on the grass in vain


Needless to say, death caught

With no remorse, it is truth, and died

The hurting letters died, broken heart

For those thoughts that gave reason…


To what was never an inpiration…


©Carlos di Paulo Zozaya


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.