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Passions and memories of a far and wasted time,
When I left wasted and missed,
Turned into food that makes my stomach full and satisfied
But leaves my heart empty.
Food made of air and ash, so clean pure and light,
I can eat it, always, in every moment
And I don't care if I stagnate like a plant
That lives and dies without any sensation.
Privilege became regret. Now I remind.
Satisfaction became loneliness. Now I remind.
An invisible but very heavy chain keeps me immobile,
It lets me free just to eat my food,
With each bite my heart beats slower and more silent.
Poisoned food, hard to digest,
Inside my veins continues to rend the strength.
Withering food strikes integrity of my certitude
And leaves me here alone.
