the floods falling from the sky in the rain of stone and soil

 

I am the sharpest shining knife of iron torn from a rusty ship, 

Sharpened from its bent rope, the most beautiful dreams. 

Even my breath cuts paper, 

I am Gabriel's trust, 

I am in the sheath of Azrael, the skin of angels. 

I am the prince of fate born in heaven, 

Every day I escape to the streets of hell, hiding, wondering, 

I wander the city of fire, 

The diamond gardens of embers, burning coal, every day without getting tired or tired... 

I am the sharpest shining knife of iron torn from a rusty ship, 

Sharpened from its bent rope, the most beautiful dreams. 

There is nothing "other" left in our hands, in our palms,

Hopes are like kindling my love, 

I am the bottom of the sunless darkness of a coal mine... 

No please no, 

don't smile to me even as much as an ant's bite in these darknesses, 

I can't hold myself, 

First we burn from our skin to our dreams, 

We become the roar of the exploding and screaming mountain, 

Then the floods falling from the sky in the rain of stone and soil. 

This world of stones collapses on us. 

We become the apocalypse of this planet of love. 

13.35 black-handed and faceless writings and dreams...