Wild sky-blue delirium

Mismo poema publicado anteriormente, pero en inglés.

Cruel lord, master of the needles,
the horror of your face undermines me.

Wild and remote domains,
What to expect?,
just dream and wander
with ghosts,
be consumed only
in a craving
single and raw,
in a back’s bending
to the yoke of adverse reality.
Myrmidons fatal, the kilometers
to my hands,
soaked in blood
I extend them even after all this collide
with the wall of fate;
has to sound pathetic
my weeping of fantasy and
my stupid smile of reveries;
But, what else can I do?
I am weak nature,
I am extensive haze
who doesn’t know to do anything else
that distort the way
and draw him in any shade
of tree or lie.
Regain the sense for a few seconds
seems to be the only possible conquest
to give up instantly
to the sky-blue opals
of my insanity.
Ah yes! Satisfactory madness
how happy torment
each eternal moment of brutal fantasy,
abandon oneself to all false hope
sometimes and always makes me happy.
No more is needed:
an arpeggio,
a word,
a sigh
and my soul disappears from this world
of damp walls and empty streets,
just a flash
and goodbye forever ...