REFLECTIONS © 2011

Those who lose themselves in it call it life,

They live it without fear, with longing and passion,

But I, who am the world gathered in wounds,

See in it only an echo of solitude.

I am silence, I am shadow in the dawn,

I carry in my eyes the weight of truth,

And this life, beloved by so many,

For me is a scar, pure nostalgia.

I call it my wound, open and latent,

That pulses in the depths of my being,

And as time passes, indifferent,

Pain is the only way for me to recognize myself.

---

Play

---