Parte 2: Delirios lectores

There on the edge of Earth I thought you standing still;
Eyes looking up but yet not far beyond the hill
That sky makes with water, and the dragons all above
That God made with sulphur and the wings of a black dove.
Then gave them their six names and a shackle ‘round their neck
To guard every land where human ships must someday wreck.
I knew that you hated them, and though you were alone
Don’t they roar their fire at you, but just turn themselves to bone.

Then turned round and saw her once more standing there:
Her hair still on fire, her reflection still not her...
She points to the angel, dead, yet fighting in your fist,
Then all birds took off and bled their eyes right trough the mist;
Poets cut off their hands, but yet you still may think
You saw yourself drawing to them some new ones with blue ink.
Tales of ice being a killer always been a lie:
Flowers don’t rise up in winter because they just want to die.

But you know well enough that some things never rest
And no matter where you look, you’re always facing west;
Run from your image and your knowledge of a place
Where no one sees you though they still reach for your face
To tie both your lips together, torn cheeks, sew your eyes
And then, as you whisper, every living creature dies;
The world had stopped turning almost centuries ago
And realms of Hell now are not longer that below.
So walk on your own steps, get back where you know you’re meant,
To hate all those dragons and their land from Heaven sent.