Comediante.
It\'s a lie of life
karma of skin and pain
on a bubble of poetry
illusion of abundance
in a cold room .
The recumbets are tired
bye bye templars of tiberias
you\'re nothing more
than sorcerer\'s apprentices
in a paper theater
And I a dark harlequin
blazzing with silence .
Tragediante .
Traveler,bottle thrown
into interstellar seas
a rope of opprobrium
and wings melting in the sun
giving meaning to suspended despair .
Alchemy gone wrong
comical and lyrical tragedy
this landscape of angry cellos
in the harmonies of mars
a darker mind speaks a cloud\'s language .
Final act .
I would enjoy a poisoned tea
with the princess of Hungary
and I\'ll come back daz\'d and alive .
Epics must be deconstructed
with interwined resonances .
Achieving rebirth through
the supreme beauty of the vacuum .