Spiral

Frozen meadows reached the hidden corner of the brave heart side,
Broken flower dreams of endless night walks missed,
Mourning mornings darkened the brightest eyes and hopes,
Crying hunger driven alone looking for console.
Twisted roles turning back meaningless and nonsense
Crawling love stories becoming black and white
In filthy corridors and smoking rooms without ground,
Blessed or damned, lost again, and now found.

Sergio Carmo