DAILY
I do not see any chance of victory
Neither wished otherwise
While the daily deforms us,
Hope some remaining slag.
The wind changes the old story
And the time for no reason and without reform
Expresses what in fact denies the norm
And my life becomes melancholy.
And when I dive into the void
My soul following you, ephemeral figure,
Spectrum of Hope elusive.
Charms already lost the corners
And I know that so many of the disaffected
And the dream beyond mourning challenge ...
MARCOS LOURES
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