A wolf like he is
Seldom he barks
Rarely he eats
Never he sleeps
Comes in my dreams and strange meetings
Still I wonder if he is a benign or a brute self
When I walk past his withering shades
Weaving heaviness on the dream hours
A night like grim he is
Wandering in the most manly hours
A beast like feverish he is
Feasting on the dust of us
A brown self with a red heart
Skin open and bleeding
Hair spinning over his pain
Misery like his eternal bones
Hissing streets where he belongs
Have a vein of blood and lust
A beast like feverish he is
Feasting on the dust of us
A brown self with a red heart
Skin open and bleeding
Hair spinning over his pain
Misery like his eternal bones
Hissing streets where he belongs
Have a vein of blood and lust
Distant gaze and loving eyes
Wood like flesh he is
Wishing for a better life
For his canine self and others
He walked across his shadow and others too
Wishing for a better life
For his canine self and others
He walked across his shadow and others too
Loving the dust of the dirty canals
Seldom he barks
Rarely he eats
Never he sleeps
Comes in my dreams and strange meetings
Still I wonder if he is a benign or a brute self
When I walk past his withering shades
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