Life covers the night with its punctuation
On the stage, an old actor plays Hamlet,
He enlightens the gloomy neons of the set,
His breath is mixed with sweat, with fate
He raises his arms like a criminal
Towards the arson that’s the sky
Birds are merging with clouds,
I am only a writer, my soul is too dampened with the ink of your eyes,
Electricity is flowing between stars,
As they watch the dust on our hands catch fire,
A red, red, rose was thrown on the stage
But the night engulfed in the theater hall
I bathed in the flowery night thinking about flames
I asked the roses let me see my lover, and they turned grey