My arms.

My arms.

Friend, never fear this wilderness,
Life will always show an output...
Sometimes she is always around,
So many times, not see, so distracted...
The fear that looms with sadness,
Brings tears that so often blinds.
Do not forget to get beauty
In the seas, thy eyes have sailing...
Why are so many late nights lonely,
After the rebirth of the old sun;
Its rays upon the pain that is so atrocious,
Brings the clarity of a lighthouse...
In the midst of thunderstorms, a shelter...
In the middle of loneliness my arms sympathetically.


MARCOS LOURES