THE DEATH OF THE HERO

THE DEATH OF THE HERO

In the abstruse green waterfall

Of a nowhere awareness,

I will go to die.

Die of your tears,

Die of your sorrow.

I will lay my heart

Offered to the sand wind

That trickle long procession

Of insanity

For too long held

In the heart’s pulp.

I am the hero.

This scanty hero,

Made of flesh dripping wet of fear,

Streaming blue blood

By the wounds of self burning.

And that evil surgery

Will strike out my heart of the chest,

And put it at the carpet of disillusions.

I am the hero,

And I am going to die tonight.

At the silver moon, under dark cypress.

I will cut the skin of my tummy

To extract the poison there,

I will bleed my tumor to the bottom.

And head up to the sky,

I will die arms in cross,

Offering my spirit to the galaxies.

And as my life will sparkle

In a rain of thousand stars,

I will join paradise…

No heroes are eternal, They are simple men With a mission to achieve. And they most of the time

Are more fragile Than a porcelain cup.