Bs. As., March 12th,2009. <br /> <br /> For Mariano Moruja <br /> <br />In my dreams, you turn into <br />a black bird and fly, <br />as I see your fire eyes, that <br />already, left me behind. <br /> <br />Tell me! , I beg thee, <br />World, Ocean, Stars: <br />Have you felt him, <br />or seen his flying hands? <br /> <br />Though wounded, he can dance; <br />all marble, tough warrior, <br />and still, <br />all feelings, tears and heart. <br /> <br />His quest? the bravest. <br />He exposes his Heart, where no ideals exist; <br />he dares to sparce Hope, where no faith there is. <br />Even sourrounded by Chaos, his warm refuge, resists. <br /> <br />He `s always in battle, so far away. <br />I dream of his hands, moving gracely in the air; <br />let me rest in his spirit, <br />before I awake. <br /> <br /> <br /> La Finita<br /><br />Laa Finita<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/black-bird-10/
