It started to melt

My hands are cold and my mind is blank.
There is too much to forget,
and too much to forgive.

I can read a thousand poems
and create a million metaphors,
strengthened by my own illusions.

I can speak silent words
and even create new sounds,
getting lost in my deranged passions.

On this lonely night,
let me be a rushing river
that flows through veins and dust.

Let me be the sun and the moon,
and leave everything else behind:
drums and shining stars
instead of clouds and bells.

What if I gamble with destiny?
What if I place all my faith in this?
What if I breathe freely again?

It killed me,
but I have never been reborn so strong.