Under the pretext of love,
Hides an evil,
A bliss on earth
That directs man,
To an agony unseen
But foretold.
The joy of the simple,
Which traps the wisest men,
An inspiration that lead men
To a world of darkness,
The shield,
That blinds the young
And separates them,
From the truth.
The roots of the arrows that sends men,
Beneath an endless sorrow,
A love that waits,
And leads men joyfully,
To their grey hairs,
And to a place of victory,
Where we all long to
Be forever.
Behold the innocence of the child,
Like a candle lit in the wind,
A pretext,
With a face of love
But a brain and mind,
That lusts after,
The most canal things,
A dagger that pierces through,
The hearts of the strongest,
Like an honey comb,
Drops her lips,
Which many tread upon,
And are blown away,
Beneath the starry skies.
There she lies,
Like a snake who lay wait,
For a prey,
The careless feat of the righteous,
Fall before Her.
How I wish my son,
Followed not after,
The famous tunes,
And sounds that draw,
Men to their early grave.
Like a candle that follows,
The sweetest whisper of the wind.
It struggles within
Alas!!! The light goes off,
A bright star fallen into
The dark hole of darkness,
Which the smallest object
Never escapes.
Only if my beautiful sun,
Had listened to me,
And avoided the paths,
Which draw great lights,
Into the black holes.