My Works in English

I'll put here all my new works written in the English Language.

Slithering Mind

My mind is as quiet as a dead dread lake;

With no sound of frogs nor birds;
But suddenly is as deathly as a snake;
Slithering as english words;
And wishing to fly higher than the birds.

Don't mind if my mind is as mind as the wind;
Flowing free as fire in hell;
But quite more skilful in burning than a fiend;
Flying free as fire in hell;
And wishing to be as a cursing spell.

My soul is as random as a great black hole;
Sucking matter endlessly;
It is, no matter what, as snow in north pole;
Seeing cold as ecstasy;
Feeling the world vile and contemptuously.

Don't mind if my soul is as dark as the chasm;
Igniting silence with lore;
But quite more willful in knowing than a spasm;
Filling silence with no bore;
And wishing to be from All the primal core.

The Girl

Once upon an old forgotten house;
A girl studied countless mysteries;
Through very dramatic histories;
Feeling that for them she was a louse;
She had no love.

While eating the daily random foods;
She scanned herself for floating life;
In planets, swamps or a talking knife;
While perceiving her absence of goods;
She had no love.

During birthdays she seemed unhappy;
For her imortality was clear;
To others her mind was scrappy;
A bloody void that gather no cheer;
She had no love.

In normal human celebrations;
She was inhuman and blasphemous;
Because all was none but sensations;
And non-existent in her calculus;
She had no love.

She was cold as death and hot as hell;
In her eyes of reddish vile nightmare;
An evil that dire creatures can't tell;
A bloody void that don't likes to spare;
She had no love.

Once upon an old forgotten house;
A girl studied countless histories;
Through very dramatic misteries;
Feeling that for them they was a louse;
She found her love.

Love's Essence

I'd rather talk about nothing;
Since love's none but sting;
That inflicts terrible damage;
And destroys image;
Therefore it is itself a key;
To lock mind in three;
Stabs with blood and more blood and gore;
Since love's none but whore;
That plays around unmerciful;
And in vertical;
With bloody fools of hopeless hope;
That hopes for a rope;
To hang themselves in dreadful pain;
Waiting to be slain;
By their own hands of anxious doom;
Counting for the gloom;
To come with scythe and goods of death;
Such as cursing breath;
Therefore it is itself a sea;
To drown you in me.

The Influence of the Moon

One could harness its uncanny influence,
To conquer the deepest of the ancient depths.
But doubtfully one could endure its power,
Giving its light which installs imprudence.

I've learned successfully how to control it,
And I've seen what I thought to be impossible.
One could not distinguish one shadow from another,
Inside the hazy gateways of the moon's abysses.

But I've learned successfully how to do it,
Yet one could not endure the damage it causes,
Giving the old light which is of unknown forces,
That comes out from that ghastly natural satellite.

One more time I say that one could harness it,
To travel beyond the oldest of the cosmic depths.
But doubtfully you'll endure its unspeakable power,
Giving its light which installs its conscience.

I've learned successfully how to deal with it,
And I've seen what I thought to be improbable,
One could not distinguish sound from image,
Inside the hazy gateways of the abysses' landscapes.

But I've learned successfully how to control myself,
Despite its uncanny influence and invisible power.
One could not endure its unforgettable harnessing,
Giving the fact that one can not leave the moon's abysses.


This dark reality goes away like a cloudy and stormy day, suddenly all the tempestuous clouds fade away and the sun comes shining. The question is: What is a bright day for you? A heartless or a hearty one? If you're happy, you can say "fuck you" to this answer and lock it in a very deep abyss.