I want to die
and to have nothing to do with this life that to me was entrusted.

But before that happens
I will let my work to the art of enjoyment with no saying a word.

It will get expressed with my hands
in the music that in my soul and my sense recalls the beauty.

And I wish the fair years preserve
the writings that emerge from this suffering and broken skin.

Before leaving
I will bite the solitude and say what the silence causes.

Because I want to die
and follow the road thinking that the fight is already done.