Waters swerve,
Arrows curve.
The sideways attitude of destiny,
The filtered agony
Of a final woe.

She crashed
Upon a shrub of thorns.
She bled
Without stopping.
She cried
Without seeing.
She slept
Without knowing
I was near to hold her hand.

A blue sky
Turned black
As the night without stars.
I will not pick a one.
I will not have another one.

The infinity, now
Is just a remorse,
An entanglement of weaving directions
From light to light,
From height to height,
From spite to spite,
From fright to fright.