Cada día que amanece

En la foto están sus sombras
esa noche oscura del verano,
cuando se fueron.
Su vestido de blanco y negro,
su sonrisa con tanto color.
Decidió su plan de acción,
y no le dijo nada.
Entonces tiene esa foto,
con ese recuerdo que repita cada día.
Nada ha cambiado y todo ha sido igual.
Con el calor de este verano,
viene el frio de esa noche,
abrazándose con tanto amor.
Y quiere decir que no puede decir nada.
No entiende la situación porque
miraba a la foto con admiración.
Tuvo esas manos por esa noche
y ya es claro que esas manos,
son del pasado.
Vea la foto como un cuento,
aunque una de esas sombras
fuera la suya.
Y le parece a veces,
que olvidará esa cara, esa noche
y las sombras que aun hablan,
por esta parte de la ciudad.
Le parece a veces,
que nunca olvidará esta historia.
Esa foto de una mujer tan hermosa
en cuerpo y alma, quedará.
Y la esperanza de comenzar de nuevo,
pasará por su mente,
cada día que amanece.

It all seemed so abstract

No one can escape such truth, such unbiased action.

He came and lain me down a winding dirt road.

I was huddled there in the obscurity of night.

I had dirt in my ears and cuts all over my body,

reminding me that pain makes us human.

And human I am.

He broke my wrist and watched over me;

as my head smashed through the window,

and my body flew out the vehicle rolling, 

again, again, and again.

He broke my wrist that brings the pen to a page

and smashed my brain, 

so that thoughts couldn't be written.

He even rid me of future thoughts and remembrance,

somewhat tempted to steal memories that were existent.

So I plucked the story,

word by word from those that love me.

My string came close to being snipped,

but the Gods must have plans for me,

whispered those feeling uneasy.

They say, I awoke in the night muttering.

Blood ran down my face and hit the soil,

dampened my clothes and dried.

The bones in my wrist took a break,

like two people growing tired of one another.

I was disillusioned. 

I saw Death on that road made of Earth,

and he touched me to let me know,

that my life should be more appreciated,

before I go and leave this world.

It's strange to think of Death,

because he's someone so abstract.

But I thought hard and long,

for I nearly missed, 

our evening night together.

I picked up the phone,

and called a lover I've missed.

She give me the concern,

I thought that I needed.

I called again from friend to friend.

It's hard to realize what life is worth,

when all of life is an unknown full of guessing.

So I guess that's what I will take.

I will learn to love the unknown,

and work a little less, perhaps a little slower,

to find the answers so damn soon.

I have my family

that's been healing my wounds,

my friends that keep the phone line busy,

and perhaps the thoughts of a flame,

that can wait through these winters,

and warm me once again.

For it all seems so abstract.