Imprints — Hive

Imprints

While I wait in the hospital bed
that the eternal night of the times may appear,
the imprints of years lived, as commercials
of television, go through me already tired mind.

My childhood in the countryside is present,
the magical place where the clouds kiss
and green is the king of nature's colors,
where my happiness harbored and sheltered the soul.

Innocence gave way to chores
that made me the man I was.
and he's about to leave this plane.
The games only needed Mr. Ingenuity.

We lived humbly but nobly,
without the need for money to make a profit,
We were as rich as the most disproportionate poor.
and as invisible as the greatest necromancer.

It was a childhood that gave me the best smiles,
the best friends, the most sincere and eternal affections,
the joy of being part of the magic of divine creation
in a conglomerate of landscapes worthy of Eden itself.