There is a chosen being at the top of the hill
With the wisdom above any other existence
His mind is in colors to describe life itself
Blessed by kings is his aura of a nation of angels
He paints the green vast and blue skies,
Rays of light that enter the snowy clouds,
Rainbows that decorates our surroundings,
Waterfalls that submerge into the wild rivers
All in his motley brush that dances in his hand

Then comes a day an echo tumbling the horizons
With the madness of a thousand unicorns running free
The voice of another being climbing up the rocky road
Struggling to reach the Eden of his eternal life
Stepping on snakes and fighting with lions
With an arrow stuck in his heart that bleeds
The melancholy of his ancestors, mentors and muses
And for how long shall he carry this iron cross
On the top of his broken wings

There is nothing inside this hollow reality called life
But the thoughts of an angry god that dwells inside
His subconscious where a halo shines in loneliness
Reach out my hands so I can tell my lullabies
The images of your immaculate art…
Dream with me to exalted into a symphony of enchantment
Where our reincarnated sould can be free again
Reborn like the seagulls that crosses the oceans
Into lands of victorious dialects that made our past

With a tear in every star our ceremony is intense
Like phoenixes raising out of the ashes scattering flames
That our immortal souls have collected to rest in peace
On a shrine where our children will follow
Making a legend of our seed that will ripe for generations to come……

Robert C. Lopez
6/2001