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Absolute Shadow

de Obsidian Pulseweaver

With enigma is diffused
No one sees its body
Clear air, good silence

The spirit of the wind
That is already breeze, arises
A fresh scent of transparency
Slides as a floe

Intense crystal of mirror
Between the river and the oarsman
Transition of grey
An air that never ends
¡Margins of insanity!

Oh, furious wind!
With thundering voice
Bellows through the air
Deafening my thoughts
Entering my head

In black clouds I come apart
From this blue I turn aside
Penetrate me and tremble
Silence the chaos inside

I flow along with the blizzard and
Attend the demands of the wind
Between puffs and wet gusts
I hear storm waves floating

After dying
At the top of the mount
With hands to the sky
And in the eyes the light
Of the dark end

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