«In the darkness of your own
hear the devils running in,
and the heartless voice
of our pride of name.
Fear the painless overcoming
that she’d always regret,
as the moonlight dimmed
ever since she left.
Young and old all climb the hill
carrying their own bones attached,
‘cause she tore their hearts
with her shinny light.
Fear the painless overcoming
that she’d always regret,
as the moonlight dimmed
ever since she went away.»
Ilustración: Frederic Remington
Willy Sánchez de Cos 