Poemas 6

Phantoms

We are the phantoms of ghosts.
We are the dream to live for.
Where nothing exists for sure,
we are the nightingale of sour.

We are some sort of inexistence,
we are the fact of reality,
Deep, light, done or thought
we are a fight waiting to be fought.

We are the anxious in serenity.
We are hidden in the dark
but in the light, black starts to gleam:
we are the spots of surprising steam.

We are so scared, as all the others,
we are as frightened as being here
Faith, distrust or believe unsure:
We just don’t really exist for sure.

[Julho de 2002]