It 'a cry for help, an invocation to God
How do I live without a soul?
Brutale
hope to have more reason
that grease the wheels of wisdom
forget the death of the heart.
Witness for a fast time flies
in an abstract without color.
Empty canvas without love, you
of my art muse
pain and do not leave me helpless and defenseless,
flying on rooftops and in the sky, muse
oh, oh woman, oh sigh,
but always comes back as blessed food
hungry for a man of your affection!
I'll wait.
Vincent
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