IRONIES IN MY LIFE AND LOVE
I rely on the beautiful irony as a rhetorical figure,
to indicate the opposite of that I want,
but the other way around I want to imply my strange logic,
and with a sad gesticulate tone, to say that I'm dying.
I write this while I listen to a strange song,
"Ironic" well played by Alanis Morissette.
Afflicted irony happens to me, almost in a pantheon,
With close death, I won the lottery when I met you.
Few moments I have left to enjoy happy by your side, my Fairy!
Because the end of my life is approaching and time is gone,
foolishly they lie when they say that old age is golden life,
Is that the ironic black fly in my wine "Chardonnay"?
Who would have thought? I am afraid of loving you,
with so many failures and disappointments of a couple, I am a hostage,
I have waited all my life to hold you in my arms,
It's ironic, age came over me and so did you.
I long to adore you and in your delicious body to become extinct,
without worrying about the outrages of time, shut up!
I beg in your hands a capacity for life to contain me,
ironically I enjoy my old age with such beautiful hours.
The irony of my life, slowly has prostrated on yours,
sweetly I confess that I feel alive, when I am yours,
my wandering soul in final tour of anguish that overwhelms,
lost years jumping on beds and like off hurricane I go.
Caresses, kisses, affection, love, passion and tenderness, lavish,
but, the irony covers me with sepulcal silence that disturbs,
your Sunrise in my taciturn Sunset, silently nourishes my fears,
your spring youth, in sweet nectar my autumn overflows.
Irony enjoy afternoons without Sunsets and a night without a star,
irony and lies of virtues and tributes for old people suffering,
irony of fifteen sweet years that I carry with her, loving her,
irony reneging the previous twenty years lost and lamented.
Faced with the death penalty, the pardon will not arrive even seconds later,
like rain that falls after losing what was sown by the drought,
getting away from me was good advice that you just did not take,
You and I in passionate youthful love, with senile caresses a day.
Ironic merry poisonous, that pain of love becomes a hurtful trap to my life,
of my happy old age by your side I do not complain, but scabrous black cloud has approached,
Without being able to avoid it, there is no faith or hope that is worth, I see the helpless grave!
My heart surrendered my heart, I say goodbye, my love! Death made its call!
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