My first Indriso

Guitar without strings

A guitar without strings standing, 

Inert without moaning wails joy or smile,
just as bones that do not cry bitter six feet of earth

without the glare of the spotlight;
the clamor of the crowds echoing in its wake;
no cries echo in the empty stage an infinite void;

no hands to touch him; just wood useless.

as a body without a soul, as a life without purpose.

Written by Antonio Deodato Marques Leão