The bird of prey

Over the towers of the castle
The bird of prey crosses in solitude again
Observing and conveying in it
The impossible dreams of prosaic people.

Showing me ice in your eyes
Your skin is still so young
All you have gained over the years
Your story continues without including me.

That can not be said by being forbidden
Like a fruitless and ardent movement
Deep inside an unknown land
And only on changing can it have sense.

For the intelligence with which you think
The smile that is filmed and filed
Screaming impossibilities over the towers
Under birds of prey that fly and are still unknown.

Everything is strange in weariness
Anterooms on anterooms
Ignoring if they will be tangible or not
Whoever comes or who you will found
When the corpses that are beside his body
Stand again like flags, each one with their own name.

Purring that does not want attention
And the space of a room is enough
Moving threads without losing stitches
Devoted to playing as a companion
Without letting flashes escape through the windows.

When there are no previous images is difficult to accept
Except for the needless nails inserted in your heart
The lost love, affection stolen and misplaced
The appointment that would never exist but was accepted in faith
Just like a child who for a long time believes that life is joy.

And above all, someone who flies without expression
And dwells among us with his injured knees
For the normal anxiety already completely known
The highest and most remote scream
The broken compass and the scroll that did not survive the rain.