The memory of a statue.

Pour the drops of rain on the rigid face of the trouble. Run the destiny of a time which does not have any more end. Forget blood bubbling in cooled veins. Cry the fire of an extinct passion at the end of your misfortune. Remain the empty mask of a morbid glance. Made up dust recovering your cemetery. Pour the drops of rain on your stiff body. Of a memory which flees to the martyr. With the absence of a name for consequence. To build silence. Where offense sinks. To be only one statue with the naked heart. Given up at the end of an alley. Visited by the drift of worn steps to trail. Without goal, nor projects. For finally meeting you. Pour the drops of rain on the wall of tone sarcophagus. Well too wise to be only one image. From a completed time. Where became animated in you so much solved passions. Too much quickly concluded. In the sad and cold memory of a statue.