El Centinela y La Alquimista

The grimace of some sorcery of the rubble
Wanted my path to unfold the mouth of my ashes
In the tomb of some fatal magician
Where the sound of invoking hands
Cut down the smile of the deafest of lights
Looking, through a drain, at the whole planet of your skies

And in that sermon of vestiges
That light keeps calling me, its story
That rocks the cradle of indifference
With no other remedy than what the old Sentinel already read to his beloved Alchemist
In the transmuted whim to keep on living

I walk in desires to find you
Decide whether not to stay
Or face some dragon

I fly over the throat of destiny
Embrace your freckles
That close their eyes in front of me

I feel like I'm escaping every moment
Between the glass of silence
And the shadow of your voice

I slip through the skin of that breeze
Above the fire
Of arms that watch the smaller street

And it's you I see standing
Alchemist of the adverse

And so, Sentinel in your night
In its usual round

I seek that embrace so distant
That twists sideways
That sews to my reason

It wants a heart cemented
With the cold well seated

I search among the gestures of a spell
Among remains of a death
That terrifying dream

To walk those singular streets
And shelter in your cities

The tomb, hope is looted
Will someone resurrect it?
I hope it's today

Some luck wanted to unleash
To steal some verses from Serrat
Or from Ubiergo another song

I feel you left and came back
If you were born, I'm lucky
I just hope to be me and not make the wrong decision

Goes out to accompany the dusk
Let his fingers blow
The silence that keeps it in a drawer

Under that careless moon
Still seeing that life is not to be imprisoned
In the eyes of a voice

I walk among such corrupt mandates
Fireflies of fear
Murderers of illusion

Do I want to be a holocaust
A bloodied memory?

I want to be the wound that kicks
The memory of a stone
The sign of the heart

I want to be your next move
If luck is your gaze

I want to be the time that surpasses
The elapsed moment
The eternal thinker

In the arms of the farthest star
I will place that shot
That weaves words that want to escape

Just as the rains
Songs are born from storms
From cold, from love and illusion lava

And lie hidden in streets ready for you

And so I still see you standing
Alchemist of the opposite

And so, Sentinel in the night (your night)
In my usual round