This is an English translation of a poem I wrote in Spanish.

The Road to Be Walked

Here in my tarnished cage
Smelling of urine and excrement
Here in my golden cage
With my secret banquet served
The night, it hurts
As the moon and the stars light up the sky; the heavens are glowing
How much he longs to return
To when he was feeling that pain in the flesh; to that mourning.

Here in my obscene verses
Semi-dark and so beautiful
It feels like resting on the breasts
Of a beautiful muse, it’s so comfortable
Oh, mother, how I miss being one of your children
Oh, father, how I long having a home to come to
I never imagined I would’ve become a foreigner
Of such things I always intended to hold on to.

Here in my royal King size bed
Sleeping like a baby in his crib
But the soul does not comply with what stated
It refuses to follow any rules, God forbid.
It won’t bow down before such majesty
It only bows down to gather all of its tears
But its eyes won’t look straight at the travesty
Admitting such grief; this, you’ll never hear.

There in its rusty cage
Full of dust, unsteadiness and parasites
There’s a certainty enraged
Groaning its complaints at the usual rites
This evening will be one of hurting
As the hours make fun at the end of the dawn
How it wishes to give up that waiting
To what was that feeling of bleeding, to hide its face against the pillow, to mourn.


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