the crying lovers

When the lovers cry, their joy wearing thin, their tears fill gods vows, drawing dreams on abandoned walls as someone reading hymns.

When the lovers cry.
Fragments of their soul are scattered
But the paradox here ..
Is that no one believes that ..
They all went to bed early ..
Without realizing the end of events.

To cried lovers
Details do not concern anyone
Such as the distance between
the sun and the moon
Everyone gets a cold ..
There is no difference between candles or jasmine, everything is similar
Anger or joy ..
Despair or hope ..
Never make a difference
No difference ..
As long as the sky is not clear
The blue radios are burning
And because the story is not ending
I'll leave these lines
Without shadows or linden
Without dawn or prayer
Without smiles or any prosper words .. !!