From the behind of the thick curtain
The eyes spy and count stars.
The myths slipped among fingers.

This night the darkness is so frail
Alike an autumn leaf falling on a grave

The passions became ashes,
Memories lost on the way.
The feast sacrificed colors,
Empty thought became pain.

Looking for stray mornings,
Awaiting for the clear sight
Of the unknown god
To wipe out my tear from clay,
To throttle the words that stay
On my dark blue tongue

I become a dumb and a deaf one.