A POEM FOR MYSELF

I am
the tender wind
the strongest verb of sky.

I’m the power of the sun
the thunder of the game,
the eloquent fair Lord
that sunny days denies.

The breath of all the gods
the seed of crowns and knights
a poet of the verse
defining day and night.

Quite drunk when I’m asleep
a little bit of light,
some lonely men in Black
who can destroy the dark.

A bullet in the doom
an arrow lost in glen
surrendering all the praise
in every single time.

The joker, the ballon
the unique general
my corporals asumes
that I’m the temporal.

The king of every island
which I step my rhymes
the Lord of my comments
the rascal with a kite.

I own the sacred phrases
the creeds, soliloquies
all eternal, all visceral
all in sympathy with rites.

And finally, the temple
the lord of decensy
the people’s oratory
defines my treachery!

And I’m the only one
who brings you as a gift
the happiness, fidelity…
the love strong as steal.

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