trilingual text

a waste of stunned verbs
it do for me one day and a earth a little tight.
I’m walk on the wind, breathing shards of glass –
tranquility is an exorcism of failures, nobody
has not reached the depths of solitude contemplating,
had to taste the iron from the any sky
and paying with the departures of all the others…
The waste of life makes him only the scythe, I never
I’m throwing in all directions with useless facts,
think I am generous alive, selfishly dead – on my forehead
It is not written anything, fate is a scam
to could scatter is necessary of to have what it

( photo by Earth Heal)

Uno spreco di verbi storditi
mi fa il giorno e la terra un po’ più stretti.
sto calpestando il vento, respirando schegge di vetro –
la tranquilità è un esorcismo ai fallimenti, nessuno
ha…