The Last Man on the Moon
Walking on a Dream
Letter for Marcio
This is the last reach from the moon!
It’s 7 o’clock in the morning.
I can’t even see the screen because of the river that makes my sorrow.
This time the man lost for the alien.
The weakness and selfish was destroyed by ignorance.
At the moment maybe my machine is finishing breaking.
And there’s only one thing left in my mind.
Here there’s no life vest under the seat.
And the seat belt can’t be fastened by anyone.
It seems like the days were so slow but then passed so fast.
My last sexual relation was with a coffee machine,
No heart but a lifetime orgasm.
The food is something that my stomach doesn’t see a while.
What I see is dust and white yellow, almost like a cheese.
The gravity makes my body fells lost.
Maybe it was the divine fair that I deserved.
To be no recognize and alone,
With something that I have property and reason to destroy.
My body fells just like I can control the innocence.
When I’m not driving the machine of my heart it takes total control.
At the same time I lost my mission, my health and my soul.
Could I ask for forgiveness or let God give His entire last sentence about my attitudes?
I never thought it could be so fast.
Be without the only way to connect to the world is what have done this with me.
Predicts mine were once monsters to convey my own fallings.
What was supposed to be seen blue,
I just see black and darkness.
Then, I get that feeling when you were apart.
It’s hard to reach it and I can’t be without you.
Good bye for yesterday.
For the first time I fell the hope is coming back.
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