VOICES FROM THE FIRE: Luis Berriozabal

The Lows 

The lows are too low.

The blues are too blue.

These feet can’t go on.

They get in my way.

The wind does not blow.

I march to no drum.

This cold is too cold.

It freezes my brain.

I hope against hope.

Without you I lose.

This bitter lemon

life is not ideal.

The last gap is here.

I am on my own

naked in my soul.

The lows are too low.

Bright Days

Bright days will come

when this darkness 

goes to sleep. I 

can only hold my

breath for so long.

Bright days will come 

again when the

sun makes it out

from its slumber.

I wait right here.

The moon remains

in the sky at

daylight. I know

it will not be

there for too long

like the darkness 

I feel inside.

It consumes me

and all the light

I was saving.

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