My Martyrdom Became a Lily

It has been comforting me,

A pain in my belly arises when I think that only it follows by my side.

But yes, my breath increases, the words have returned,

The days no longer pass.

Because the days that dwell within me are those when I was with you, those I will never see again.

I feel the hangover of my actions weighing like iridium,

I feel I should have already departed,

But if I depart, it's only in half.

The salt of my eyes blinded my future,

And I learned I learned that perfection is simple,

But it comes with glitter and sequins.

I now feel what you felt before; I understand your resignation.

But only then could I understand what it is to love.

I knew the size of joy by the weight of sadness.

And although I am crumbling, I won't worry.

Both have always come and gone; both have always existed in me.

And because of this, my martyrdom became a lily.

A soul mad with vanity's beginning,

Searching for your hands in an immense loneliness.

The memories don't leave here,

The songs are always repeating themselves.

Everything now makes me hurt.

Then I think of your silent chest,

Silent, yet making itself a shield.

Why is our time so out of sync?

Why has everything become unpacked?

I am still your love,

I am still the one who warms you,

I am still the one who waits.

And if I am still the intense storm that commands lightning,

You are the one who knows how to cut the water from me to give our child to drink.

For if you are a dry tree, I am the one who knows how to gather your fruits.

We will still walk a pink road, whose steps will follow together.

We will see the desert sometimes, but our legs will be the roots of tamarisk trees.

Still hopeful to hear again the sound of God's bells, still merciful to give you what has always been yours.

May my faith never leave, and may I return to dwell in your heart again.