SPELL

SPELL

How was this dream spell?

And I know that actually have nothing,

Otherwise fantasy in rude commitment

And the mantle that truly evil lust.

The step done in loose soil

The rustic moment disdain

Closing surely the meek brow,

At a time bolder and sliding.

Prefacing death that would

As much as I can in agony

My term determines the endgame.

How could I forget another fact?

And I know that sometimes portrait of loneliness

Without even knowing supernal pray.

MARCOS LOURES