The Gothic

The Gothic


I am the poet of darkness
which sows in cold gardens
dead flowers
with the pale hands

I am the dark being
watching the night
with the look of vampire
seeking to find beauty
that hides in every shadow

My eyes painted black
they see what can not
to be seen
by the mortal eyes

I am the night haze
the ear of
Gargoyles
in the cathedrals

I wander in the dark skies
where the eyes of the
crows shine
in the magical twilight

In the dark
i see the light
that few still
produces
and in the land where the beings
of the day
crawl
I fly gently with
my wings
black angel

My solitude
devours the hours
waiting for the day to end
until it falls on me
the cloak of the night
where I dream awake
without waking

My written verses
with blood
they glide like a tepid rain
in abandoned buildings
where I leave the lament of a world
sick
recorded

Diseases left by beings
of the day
that destroy the world
with his raging wrath
Who are the strangers?
Or were they the crazy ones?

Leave me alone with my sadness.
All I have to do is cry.
Anyway, somebody needs to cry.
so let it be me
the being of darkness
the Nosferatu

Let me light my fire.
in the land of dead souls
I want to lie down on the cold stone
left by beings
from another time

Let me sing
in the dark bowels
"Close to me"
the world is sick
maybe there's no cure
someone needs to cry
so let me cry
Because I am
the being of the dark night



💙