Tired of seeing and not drinking from those clear waters, now polluted with naivety of the countless showers of my own sins
I am praying to see them, those ghost elephants hidden between trees and not in the room
The ones myths only talk about, the ones only a master hunter could read to find
Crossed gaps with no bridges, wet with illusion and bitten by mosquitoes
Shared nights with skies I will never talk to again
Cried with the desire of a lifetime