La Cruz

I see in the depths, in superstition,
In the wet sand, beneath your feet;
I heard in the silence scream,
Behind the vanity.
Shines the rune embedded in the temple,
A silk blanket covering the skin,
And failure waiting its turn calmly and without charity.
Winds that strike without forgiveness,
Flying in a thunder under the sun,
And another story stays with God
And we burn the tree for you.
Upon my return, I will lower the cross...
Hide it in your patience or keep it in your prison,
I'll give you the dry mouth waiting for that worn-out look.
Your madness is my firm reason,
My battered back your new attraction,
A supposed divine gift that touches the curse...