Posted by stephen on February 04, 19103 at 15:31:26:

PRISONERS OF THE TIME

Empty silence of afternoons, light tenue of opaque curtains, as the shine of the dust accentuated; The cold wind that rocks to its hours, in the péndulo that arrulla the time. Silent traveler, that yourself spy my time, seeing the universe, to hang telarañas, opening the doors al winter of my soul. I listen remembrances after its walls, and in the wind suspended the faces that hide in its silence, histories, legends of the dead years. In the firmament a pale, wilted shadow appears; with the remembrance, my cold winter, al to p from the days, herself light the cold of my young centuries, prisoner I am of the time. Faces that no longer can distinguish, eyes that cannot look at, laughters that could not listen, bodies as mine that no longer will be able to suffer.

• PRISONERS OF THE TIME

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• Final Sin Limite Stephen Betancourt 15:39:13 2/04/103 (0)

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