The footprint

Complacent in my sleeplessness,
in my hypothetical future,
for conceiving other world,
bridges I'm building,
more then of the concrete,
I hear voices in the walls,
and in my revealing glimpse,
what the blind can see
After the slender night,
tears of moon I drink,
I got a bolero,
in an old sense of stars,
What an incessant complaint,
in the struggle of a warrior,
freeing his eternal love,
with fury of his nobility.
I forgot the refrains,
I do not know what they were for,
and in my eagerness for a rhyme,
empty of muses my river,
council with destiny,
in something I did not know,
a mystery, a game,
and my beginning I imagine.