El Mundo Today


Barren is the night

Barren is the night.

Subjective is the light.

The streets pass by.

Shop doors close and die.

People always say goodbye.

The ocean always greets the moon.

The drunken man may arise about noon.

He may forget his problems

As he converses with his goblins.

In angel stealth and with absence of breath

the streets get wetter so I will greet my death.

I gasp at the stars that talk to loneliness tonight

For people can be the darkest clouded night.

You just have to whisper to nature in the modern light.

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