Standing here all alone by myself,
I have tried to count those fluid moments
that have crossed me by .
Waves of abandoned nostalgia
attached with these unconcerned distractions
drowns the expected occurrences.
Nowhere to be seen , the butterfly
in this decaying city of dead dreams  
fluttering above the barricades.  
Was it some mistake that brought me here  
or those vague notions of lost love  
which I tried to get back again.  
From the ruins of this sultry afternoon  
to collect the scattered bits of antiquity   
forgetting the reasons of being here.