A CRY FOR FREEDOM © 2008

The soul longs for eternal sleep,

Its weary and worn-out body,

To remain buried and decayed,

But the idea, no, it is not infirm.

It will always be a kind of star,

Burning like a comet,

The world, fascinated, will still dream

Of a desire, a parallel and beautiful path.

It will shine in the darkness of time,

In the firmament, a sparkling trace,

While the body, in slow silence,

Will be earth, but the idea, triumphant.

In the dreams of those who live, it will persist,

Like a fire that never goes out,

The soul, then, will rest,

But the light, that never fades, nor wanders.

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