Angel of the hell

Angel of the hell

Poetry already has not felt

Mine you rhyme already do not flow

My dreams already do not exist

Since that you if it was If it was and it took me

I am so here

The life already has not felt

The death already does not satisfy

I load you perpetual

E you not even note

With all its frigidez

In its body only one emptiness

In its eyes, that do not confide,

one doubts. In the forehead punctures…

Why it left me? For the street,

for the sides and the bars!

A so useless life A so complete love!

Why you do not leave me?

Why the party does not go

Why it does not go for the hell

You it is hard bone, Viviane!