By Enrique José Velázquez

"I now walk into the wild"

Seeking for my mortality

The light from my soul

might not gleam anymore

The shadows plunges into my breast

My unrealized desire of godliness

knocks at the door of the trampers hut

and my fears of dreams of death arises

The northen wilderness dances around me,

it might be a very long time before

I return south, in a body bag perhaps