In the last poem I wrote you my pen cried your name a thousand times and unheard was its calling, my words fell, broken and without rhyme, a song was written in the melancholy of a heartbeat that died. In the last poem I wrote you I heard harsh silent echoes , whispering to the moon and stars, and the sky grew dark
Tears fell like sweet rain, under a tree, that night yet this time I was alone, cold and naked inside. In the last poem I wrote you, I broke your heart in a million pieces only for you to taste the bitter essence of a question mark and then I kissed it twice the same, to make it better, for in the last poem I wrote you....I gave you up.... to you and your ways, your "love" and your passion, in the last poem I wrote you I said goodbye and then I burned the single tear in which I wrote it.
