Stormy night.
He runs free, wild
like a black Corsican, a goat.
His weightless thirst
tries again.
His voice cracks,
it doesn\'t happen.
I\'ll always run.
Blinders on my dreams,
the corner that saw everything
from time.
The edge of \"step by step\"
I never unsheathe.
A shark\'s fin
cut off for pure pleasure.