BETWEEN MISTS

BETWEEN MISTS

Where there had been a dreamer for so
Now even a shadow of whom both
Suffering every step disenchantment
Reborn within itself, superb beast,
And when imagined new hopes
Death is overflowing and cloudy mantle
Generating who sees me utter amazement,
Luck has degenerated into a terror.
The sharp claws, my fangs,
Where would show with surprises
Suppress any more human
Among many fogs, thick skinned
The shattered forehead and head
The senseless fury, sovereign ...

MARCOS LOURES