Introducción

"Escribo porque tengo que hacerlo, porque la escritura llega, no todo el tiempo y no muy seguido. Tiendo a escribir por rachas, entre meses en los que no escribo nada. ¿Tiene la poesía algún propósito? No, excepto el de satisfacer la necesidad del escritor. Pero la sociedad sería de lo más pobre si la poesía no existiera."

Nota: este párrafo no se me atribuye a mí, es de un escritor, pero no recuerdo su nombre.

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jueves, 15 de septiembre de 2011

Hell

Perhaps the fire was too much
For  our strength to get it off
Perhaps the words were much too hurting.

Perhaps you weren't yourself that night
But this pain is just too much for me
I don't know what to believe in.

Where will we end up?
How deep will we fall?
Where is this all,
Going to lead us?

It's so hard to sing while crying
So difficult to smile
I know it's tough to stay, but to let go would kill me.

And now you're just too far away
For me to lie by your side
Will you come home and save me from this pain?


Where will we end up?
How deep will we fall?
Where is this all,
Going to lead us?

--

After all this time I don't know what's happening
I cannot go on, I cannot go.
After all this time I don't know what's happening
Living in hell, what is going on?

After all this time I don't know what is going on.


This situation's unlike anything I've seen before.
My room smells like sulfur and it seems I'm going blind.

Where will we end up?
How deep will we fall?
Where is this all,
Going to lead us?