Why is there so much life
Maybe tonight is not a night,
it must be a dreadful sun,
or something else, anything.
I don’t know. There’s a lack of words,
a lack of candor, a lack of poetry
when blood cries and cries.
There’s something tearing my skin,
a blind fury runs through my veins,
Cerberus of my soul.
Let me go beyond your smile!
I could be so happy tonight!
There are lingering dreams,
and so many books, and so many lights,
and such few years. Why not?
Death is far away. It’s not looking at me.
So much life, dear God.
Why is there so much life?