In the illusion of the one day lights

In the illusion of the one day lights. Who never will not come to awake. Dust of our love. Are erased on an old parchment. Forgotten letters. Of a text without end. That a tired eagle for always. Carry the memory. Our words damaging itself to make use of it. Aligning itself on a yellowed sheet. That time has ravaged. Attenuating the out-of-date wound. Our forever hidden lives. In the tanned skin of pages. Not wise enough. Not to expose itself. With the bites of the single truth. We died not to tell more. On the blank sheets of our book. Our sad and beautiful hours. Who are added and got drunk. In the lapse of memory rebels. To erase our last traces. In spidery scrawl. On the blank sheet. Cruel abandonment which touches. To leave us only erosion. Our overflowings for speech.