LA POESIE DE LA VIE

                                                     I know the wounds aren't fresh,                              but fresh enough to bleed them again,                              it's hard to focus on myself,                                       when I lost my best buddy to a haven                                 falling in delusion to regain,                                    I still cry for me to be glad,           ...

 I’ve waited long,  much more than you could say, For death to come and kiss me away. To strangle me tight, And carry me far from the light. I’ve waited long ,  much more than you could say, But death omits me, day by day. His cold embrace, his chilling breath, Brings hope even in the face of death.