Where you shall be
In the coming days,
I implore you not to pass from this realm,
Without my whisper into your ear.
Without the returned gentleness
You have bestowed always upon me,
In the darkest of days,
When hope seemed lost, and doom seemed endless.
Without my mouth near your ear,
There will be everything for me to fear.
When tears flow to my hands that cover my eyes,
I’ll not see the sun for its warmth, but for its scorn,
Nor the moon for its solace, but for its mourning
Should you die without my farewell.
Despair is a terrible beast
When it writhes in the heat
Of what causes it to breathe,
In my stomach, empty of tears to yet eat.