It Rains

It rains



Your tears rains...

dyeing of blue my vision,

peace is fragile

and fever is passion.



Where your stories walk,

improper, honest stories?

They pass by life and marks the hour

to become a destiny ... each story.



It rains and your hands are thrown to the wind,

soaking of heat a tense body.

touching ghosts and devour them...

presenting minutes as hours.



teaches me being calm and crazy,

explicit controversy,

undoes mistakes and shrugs shoulders

to the most sentimental wounds.



As living so sad and without singing,

not to write verses?

And even sponsoring the oblivion...

to give birth pseudo boredom?



The dawn rains of your eyes...

your fate rains.

Rain and wants still to see the sea

That falls in your life sky.