The path lies flat in the evening's grace,
As the landscape steals your gaze's trace.
Yearning for dawn's tender embrace,
To resume the journey at a slower pace.
How many moments have come to pass,
Anchored in maternal thoughts en masse,
Where the heart seems wounded, alas,
And autumn flowers have yet to amass.
Your eyes within the landscape lose sight,
Of the fatigue from the journey's might.
While clouds in the sky take flight,
With souls that refuse to take fright.
Now, your helm guides once more,
The sail and the wind of tomorrow's shore.
Where the hours will cease to implore,
And hope will peek through your window's door.
How I envy the landscape in your gaze,
When they gleam with joy in meeting's phase.
How I yearn to erase all anger's blaze,
And let the soul end this torment's maze.
Jesús Hernando Camacho Mosquera(AI)
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