With the erosion of the years.
The days pass and they leave their footprints,
years that add up, so many hours beaten by anguish.
My skin already extends in the aridity, whipped by the wind,
by the memories of the pain that already penetrates the bones, the thought.
There come those looks that fade away, they are lost with their voices in oblivion.
Other faces come in the distance of strangeness
to remind you that they worked and existed
to shape your existence in society.
This man who now escapes the horizon, who watches his children grow up
in the midst of so much uncertainty.
Walking along paths that wear out in inertia,
in the perennial controversy of a country lost in political obsession.
infected by the fantasy of men without smiles.
roll the dice to generate hope.
Joys that fade away in expectation.
In the gloom that envelops their destinies.
Meanwhile my hands my bones are sculpting time,
my eyes are lost in the indefinite, waiting for the light
to illuminate the constant struggle for life,
raising paths where dreams erode difficulties,
so that we can depart with the satisfaction of our duty fulfilled.