Descent into the light

The night is my return. I pass the museum of absence.

All suffering is useless for those who do not pursue poetry, for those who do not feed eagles with their eyes.

I exercise thirst. I love only those who I could not save.

There is no longer a darkness to guide our dreams or the ghosts of unfinished desire; only the abject exchange that has replaced the rite.

I no longer search, I lose ...
And I can't even find a place in amazement.

I can't forget more. Nor do I pretend to know the three hidden answers for death.

No one here lacks the hatred necessary to regain paradise, nor does he confess his rough fall in the day.

I must be shadow or scream. Return or birth.

Each origin will decree the abolition of the self.

It is then that the breath will be green.

And although everything is due to pain ... I advance: I fall. I choose the paths that have no end. The voices that set the darkness ablaze. The poem.

You know it, shaking body:
It is not in the time where I have put my words.