De pie, sobre los ídolos caídos,
ensayo le estructura de mi grito,
para decirle a Dios que necesito
tributar al pasado mis olvidos.
Si ayer dudé, poniendo los sentidos
atentos a la voz de lo infinito,
hoy desespero entre verdad y mito
con el cuerpo y el alma divididos.
Mas, abriré la flor de la energía
para entonar un nuevo salmo al día
que hospeda en mis arterias nueva aurora.

Mientras, por los escombros del recuerdo,
al descifrar lo porvenir, me pierdo
con este cosmos de ansiedad sonora.
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