(traduccion del texto que habia poestado antes, chequenlo Aquí)
I got a desert on my face
and burns like the fire of Hades
In the shadows caress my wounds
beacause I contradict the son of man
And march with the soldiers of God
In line with the blessed abyss of the future hell.
I lost my ties that bind me to my brother.
I cut them with a one tongue snake
In the crown of feral -one single nail cats-
With the Damn of a dead man behind
of the moon, the stars -up there-
Between that curtains you touch and walk.
I march with the soldiers of January
And I walk without pain and shouts,
String skinless lips.
The most acute bleed without blood,
-The burning of the soul- and that infinite heat
doesn't burn the skin but
- the eyes.
Text by Ariadna Lira: Pedernal de Luna