Ghosts
Still you, ghost, are bothered by instinct
And whispers and falling icons
The failed attempts at a distant second
Oft ignored
Murder
A beating that took its toll...
A pound of flesh consumed.
Fantasmas
Aún tú, fantasma, eres molestado por instinto
Y susurros y iconos cayendo
Los intentos fallidos en un distante segundo
A menudo ignorados
Asesinato
Un golpe que cobró su precio...
Una libra de carne consumida.