A FEW NEW VERSES by Alfonso León Daza Vargas

Harsh darkness cliffs down
and my mind, a motionless cloud,
strums the opacity of my void.
A void unable to hold the nothingness:
there are the tides, waves, oceans of you
ceaselessly upheaving the still happening of me.
One point of consciousness
masks your humming image,
a sleepless spear through a starved wound,
icicles of sharpened fleece
instilling a scourging beat my heart sings to.
That hopeless longing unknown to reason
has become the wretched urn
of menacing pits surrounding these thoughts.