My Love Don't Believe

My love don't believe that today

natural turns into artificial life.

It is the same trail between

the woods forestation.

There is always an arrow shooting 

through the far grounds.

An imagination grown mature in the mind.

Days past on the calender of the months.

It connects a line of memories around the sea.

The universe emerges into the home of colors.

Here are the missing pieces on the sun:

the shadows in the dust,

the lost angel,

the tired and sleepless moon.