PRISONER OF TIME 1 © 2007

I wish the world,

Would look at the poet,

In him exists an infinite gift,

An open soul, a discreet window.

His madness is a deep cry,

An echo that resonates in the bowels of the world,

Each verse, a tear, a prayer,

That in the stillness of the night, is never forgotten.

The poet bears the weight of truth,

Wrapped in words, he weaves his reality,

And even if the world sees him as mad,

It is in his madness that he finds his focus.

I wish the world would understand,

That in the poet’s soul, the universe blooms,

And that each verse is a sincere reflection,

Of love, of pain, of the eternal mystery.

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