Sometimes the silence I do not believe it
I listen to it until my complete disappearance
Your absence is without recourse as is my ability to bring me back
I am poured out
of you and I forget nothing
No one here to hold me in my recovery
This is where all my hours vainly immerse themselves
The silence, always worshiping you ten feet underground
The silence, always worshiping you ten feet underground
As for nothing, the hell, for nothing
I remain stunned, folded for ever in a corner of adultery
Held firmly shut into the years by whole pieces
For nothing, the hell, for nothing
March 2010