Marcus Nalgaber and Mora Amaro La Loba

In the oblivion of my flesh


Sometimes sometimes sometimes
when I look back
I realize that Time
is an instant
after another
another another another

It just happens
and can shake your way
like that foot
that in the road
kicks away a stone

And so launched I'll fly
into mirror shards
in the space of my dreams
my dreams

Surrounded by that music
that one sings
to ward off fear
fear

Sometimes
I don't know why
I am still a draft

May be I can't change
what is born like this x2

May be may be may be
I'll find the missing chip
waiting for me
one more time

In the oblivion of my flesh
Modify message
 
Blackbirds, curves and magpies, beyond their feathers, what do they represent?


While I listen to the voice of the blackbird
I look at your face
wondering
why why why
it's impossible to change past

I think of a thousand things
no clear thought stands out
from the crowd
that stirs stirs stirs
in my mind
screaming words
that cover each others

everything could be so simple
like the games of a child
but you
have made me grave
of your dreams
and mine

we are dead and alive
under layers of time
turned into stones
over our heads

while I listen to the voice of the blackbird
singing singing singing
to the night
to the stars
that are still what they are
inertia over inertia
like our life
 
Everything happens inside, slowly, without haste... do we realize it?


I refuse sadness
and I look for the door
to the other side
but pain is a key
that everything hidden
It opens

Sadness made of acts
that move in memories
putting in my retina
a myriad of pale colors
with the taste of salt

And despite my smile
that becomes independent
staying on my lips
with the pride of madness

everything happens inside
slowly
without haste

Sadness made of acts
that move in memories
putting in my retina
a myriad of pale colors
with the taste of salt
 
Roses or bananas or how desires do what they want


Wishes scare me
I am never ready
it they come true

they can be like an onion
how many tears
blinding my eyes
when removing
all its layers
until I find what I wanted

They can be like a joke
that I don't understand
'cause
it has been written
in another language

Wishes are alive
they change reality
to do it their way

Wishes are alive
they changing reality
to do it their way
so far of mine

They can also be
a broken pocket
through with I fall

on strange stairs
leading up or down
to the same door

A window
on the other side of a mirror
where left is right
and right is left
 
In the Night of my Soul


It rains, it rains
in the night of my soul
while the hours walk
lost in the distance

It rains, it rains
on my eyes
on my face
a water of salt and almonds

that transforms me
into nostalgia

and under that rain
the shadows are not longer shadows
but pools that fill up
with the echoes, echoes, echoes
of my childhood

echoes, echoes, echoes, echoes,

It rains life
it rains crying
it rains rains rains
seas of words that are nothing today

it rains rains rains
in the kisses that I gave
 
The last Leaves of Innocence


Wind of time took me off the last leaves of innocence
letting shine
the truth of my blindness

that's why

Even not forgetting
I forget you

all the doubts that trembled
in my eyes
have now name and shape

Even not forgetting
I forget you
doors and windows
are closed to your presence
in my dreams

while I let yesterday's water
dissolve
the one I was
by your side

Your today does not exist in mine
I became a blackhole through which you fell
to a silent universe lost in itself

No more words to describe your face
your voice
your hands
no more nothing
only my steps walking my way
 
The corner that stole the wind


I did not know that a corner
would stole the wind
that holds my wings

that a gaze
could freeze my breath
letting it suspended
between out and in

I did not know that to live
I had to die so many times

so many times
between out and in

Your so strange love
kills me every day
a little more
a little more

I die in your kisses
in your eyes
in your mouth
like a daisy dies
in the hands
of who looks for love

And the days when you are sad
my dreams melt like paper
in the water of your sadness

and the days when you are sad
between out and in
 
The Moth in Fire

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3fj_zf_NFWo

His movement was continuous
for him
everything was a moment
and more than living
he was burning
with the strength
of a demented castaway
that swims even on earth

There was no night
There was no day
everything happened
as if it had been written
by a hand
that transformed past
in the web of a spider
that never released his steps

His movement was continuous
for him everything was a loss
even of that he would never have
impulse that throws the moth
against the light that seems a refuge
but that makes it become a flame
become a flame
 
A woman on the boat


Is it madness
to feel that I don't weigh
that I am nothing
but a moment of doubt
that holds me
as I hesitate
on the edge of myself?

Is it madness
to catch the air when it comes
scented
to smell it later
opening
slowly the hand?

To shout
from a boat
so that the voice can navigate?

Is it madness to embrace a love
and feel
that there is only clothes
in your arms?

Is it madness
to close your eyes and keep watching?

Is it madness a friend
having a strange name?
 
Lost in the trash of Past?


I kept in my eyes
the light that touched you
just before your goodbye

I kept in my heart
the silence that remained
when the door closed

closed

goodbye

and when the clock
in the hall
announced midnight
I had become a paper
forgotten in the trash
of your past

I go

I come

between the furniture
everything is jail
in my darkness

I am a drowned ghost
in the well of the past
looking for you without findin
 
Surely more than one of you have felt like this at some time, like a Fly on the tongue of a Frog


There is no
movement
in my mind
nor words
looking for more words
my thoughts are dead
while I watch
the walls
the lamp
the sleeping clock
and that closed door
that makes me feel
like a fly
on the tongue
of a frog
at the mercy
of the voracious appetite
of the end of a dream

Where is my essence?
The bottle containing it
now is broken
only a slight aroma remains,
so diffuse...

How to stop this reality
when Yesterday is dressed in badly laid bricks

How to retrace a path
lost in a discarded draft

How to avoid those stones that I trip over
even having changed my way

how how how
 
The Spell


I hunt rays in the storms
while truth burns behind
that truth that is already smoke
and that you will never know

nothing will come out of my mouth
nothing to break the glass
of the mirror in whose spell
you and me look at us

I hunt rays in the storms
while mouths of past
drown
in the evaporated water
that escaped from the flames

Nothing more fits in that mirror
but the earth and sky of your kisses
and the water and fire of my clouds
 
When cold burns


I'm cold
but I stay still
without even trying
to put on my jacket

I light a cigarette and inhale
the smoke
slowly
without knowing for sure
why do I repeat this rite
that burns me
between its threads

I think of you
I think of me
covered by the cold
that stirs me
that stirs me

I think of you
I think of me x2

Music

The streets empty
with the breath of winter
while the leaves
wander
puting upside down
the order
that existed

and while I smoke
time seems a friend
who sat to chat with me
of your silence
and mine
 
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