With all the colors ...

With all the colors ...

This exhaustion of the world unsuitable
Pending lethargic my silver dreams.
And your kisses my forehead, in verse,
melt like ashes*the same fire for the time off.
The coals as carbuncles, imagine;
instead of my passion, burned a rose,
that never could be smelled by a clown.
So, just love, love,*who is, because love is not always
will be for you, you were the best in my life.
The world was imposed by the human filth,
children's hunger and love that I do not.
Drugs rot history and it scares me
The child, who I love more, and more every day.
The weariness of war, weapons,
dreams and still pinned between elephants
nymphs blue fire, I do not deviate
of that anxiety and a single goal:
love you with all the colors of a violin,
vast as the sea.*And as white as
the magnolias Spanish, not yet
detach from the crust.
The fire, like a dancing game
love, imagine all the love for me
I was not tired, because the sun was born,
sea, mountains and beaches,
oil-filled, purpose of the ambitious;
to the world that fatigue improper
I do not apart from your skin and your smile marina ...
Augustus July 28, 2010.