quarta-feira, 11 de junho de 2025

03:15 am

My little warrior

You have fought bravely, fiercely

Your blood marks this ground, tell us tales

Your buried bones, more moon than dreams

Rest

Mind your head, your heart, my lap

Save your smiles for when we wake

Cool your anger with my cold stare

You are, hollow, are you not?

Let my lips fill your lie

Praise your face, for not showing

Thank your eyes, for this contempt

Rest well, my love

At sunrise we battle again

In this crowded sea of solitude

With renewed spirit

Your tired, destroyed body

Aged and torn between the lines.

Morrow comes with eternal goodbyes

Don't fight this remembrance

Try to think of it fondly

For I have already

Forgotten