Buitres

Vultures waiting
for my downfall they are.
Circling, they fly over
my path from above,
cowardly.

With harsh squawks
they beg the rapacious God,
to be able to devour
my lifeless flesh,
and fill their bellies.

Rapacious vultures curse my luck.
But I keep marching forward.
With nothing but reason as a motive
and with truth, in solitude,
I carry my destiny on the elusive path.
Following the trail left by those
who did not give up, as many do.
Those who never negotiated lies
to please the jerk, the asshole,
the sheep or the lookout.

Reason is a great motive.
Truth is solitude.
The enemy vultures,
a punishment I have earned.
And I do not regret.

The trail I follow,
the steps of my journey,
are from the living model
that I pursue for the greatness
of the feeling.

That's why I keep marching forward,
while the vultures curse my luck.
With nothing but reason as a motive
and with truth, in solitude,
I carry my destiny on the elusive path.