by Luis Ullán
Emptiness becomes a little stronger
as the overrated saint laughs
at the prayers of the sinners,
while whispering to God:
“You know they won´t last.
I will burn them all”.
As a holy place to forgiveness
the old pew remains quiet,
as a cloud nailed on a purple sunset,
soothing the weeping innocents
with hidden word as diamond epithets.
Shattered memories rest upon the vestry
while we held the wake at our homes,
ashamed for a wasted lifetime,
waiting for the end to come.
And now secrets devastate their consciences
unveiled under silky, smooth thoughts.
Down, under the highest tower,
Romeo cries her death alone.
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