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.