Without My Future

I come without my future

  Poets that I admired
  Turned their back on me
  Girls that I loved
  Feed statues in the squares
  Desires turned to stone
  That became public spectacles
  
  At night I stay awake
  Singing dissonant dreams
  To the beaches where I had lain
  Under the moonlight
  I never returned innocent
  
  I no longer recognize
  The voice of my own faith
  
  I am not he
  For whom the rooster calls
  Every dawn