The noise of silence
my empty bedroom
with the stars in the firmament
and the sound of an ancient serenade

Maybe it is because I cannot walk
in the darkness of this existence
talk with my ancestors
of this banal usage
to look, understand
and over the trunks dream
suffer too much knowledge
and with the mind fly
or maybe because
walking over the mountains
engulfed with silence
I felt observed
by Christ himself
and by another hundreds of dead-men?
Muse, I let you judge
your wings spread
and this poem rest