When the last golden sun streaks is vanishing
into clouds under the darken canopy of night.
The shivering dust settles behind the evening,
Cloudy Satire coming with a new dawn of light.
Patrolling the traces of low whispering voices,
following the Verve of strange words in the air,
Sentence disappear again into clandestine vices
The choice of deeds nights is reluctant to share.
Bar and restaurant recommend going the extra mile
after losing their keys the best thing to do,
is to make guests feel welcome with a smile,
the assured voice speaking louder than we want to.
Amorous thoughts locked behind closed doors,
only the sound of voices breaking the silence,
Herero\'s of the night, walking by on hotel floors,
bound in code by the laws of their conscience.
Energy rollaway into spaces of sleeping room
corporate pleasure at the expenses of leisure,
Upper decks not lowering into drapes of gloom
for lovers to lay their heads and count treasure.
The day is lit again rinsing away voices captured,
amidst the wanderings curious moments flow,
remains a mystery to know the voices that chatted
behind the closed doors where hunger desires go.