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Where is the Water?
A hushed whisper calls me
To the place where grass never grows,
And the waters have dessicated,
With all the lies my mouth has given.
I am a lie.
Not dark, nor white.
But, free from its own regrets.
As I walk on this dead land,
I feel the wind on my face:
What else can I give to this world, this empty void?
Nothing.
Everything that I am has faded.
All that remains is memory.
On my last step,
I recall her smile...
The one thing that deserves truth.
- Alejandro Bonfil
I really liked this. As I
I really liked this. As I read it, I actually imagined all of it happening. I imagined you walking on cracked, desert grounds with a slight breeze hitting you. Hahaha :) anyway, I like this a lot. As I do all of your poems :)