but corrodes painfully into the bowels.
Love is sin for not to have those who loves,
Love is elusive and pathological hurdle
and corrodes more painfully into the bowels.
Whenever think of you, love
Why do I need to think?
Masochist, would want to feel this pain again
that stabs my chest and makes me unhappy?
Yes, purely masochistic!
As a drug that brings me visions of eternal peace,
new horizons and colors in abundance,
But when I wake up, the intensity stabs me,
like a soaked arrow on sting poison into my heart.
But resist the pain and slowly return to the beautiful visions,
Because it's the only thing I want to think at this point,
Even in pain and sorrow of not being able to have it,
And just contemplating your existence on poverty mine,
It's the only thing I want to think at this point,
Even in the gloom and bring me all the tears that never dried,
I don't know what else to do,
Just ask the Gods, where I come pick you up, your address,
Let me look you a little more,
Believing that these tears one day,
it may be possible dry,
and the vibrant colors of tomorrow, bring me strength,
instead of Melancholy that rips my heart to pieces.
(Joyce Martins)
