It was something in the horizon,
Not clearly seen, but it was white.
I came closer, as the moon watched with sighs of repentance.
I reached it, and it was what i thought it was,
It was the gift from God.

Hugs and kisses had been rolling around
And love rose, like the smoke of a cigarette,
White but black in its nature.

I felt devoid of cleverness, stupid and loving.
The gift seemed so frail, and wandering a meter would surely ail.
What I forgot was that God
Was testing,
God gave, but fate was not resting.
Fate took the gift away into the distances of the afternoon.
And I wasn't sure if fate took it, or it wandered alone.

I had nothing to do, but waiting like an avid lover.
For fate to be merciful, or the gift itself to be
What I couldn't be
A perfect combination.

Fate had never been sweet or kind of its kind or anything but full of hate
Fate hates me, for I am its end and its last resort.

I returned to my calm climate,
Meditating the scattered souls around,
Walking freely, without any bound.
Meditating my disability to change
A dramatic story, into a short one.