Ultimate times when
I watch to my times when last;
In the expression putrid old plots
Delicate moments die crude
Of fortune does not understand or more puzzles
And drink the sordidness of the true
Roads among rocks and thorns
Marking my skin, such stigmas,
And the lava spilling over me,
Recondite joy is missed
Life had proved vain deception
By encouraging to me the death brings an end
And it reproduces what has already been
A soul sometimes dreamer.
Loures
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