Agony

          

After a slow agony

the true love

I once felt

inexorably slipped

in the clutches

of oblivion.

A bird closed

in a cage

loses its vitality

and love

disregarded

very slowly dies.

Without

water drops

a tree will never

bloom

and its young

burgeons

fall down

on the ground.

My melancholic

gloomy heart

for you

no longer

beats,

my first

and great

love.