Joyosemar Kaboco

Oh... epic, I exalt the soul wide open on the trail of poetry,
The grinding of teeth, in the Nubian jungle that cultivates armageddon.
I exalt the ovidio of the black canvases painted with the pain of the dragged virgins
Through the currents of sarcasm, 'EDO TREVO, ' the supreme pontiff sneers at this triviality; Bonfires, dungeons, shackles, reason and pain.
...

With shackles, we lose the diamond of the heavens.
In the space of the human city, expelled from the eternal fire diluvium.
We eat the fruit of chaste ingratitude in thirsty honor.
- Moving immortality confused in the condemnation of the verb.
...

Ma'arrat al-Numan (The Second Crusade, Mystic Poetry)

The host blood lies on the mob in the green fields of Ma'arrat.
Encrypted bodies elám in the atom of the lost bullets, that wander in the face of the child.
...

Fecundates the vastness of the Abyss in this basin
He dispels the darkness of him who betrays me in the proud shelter of my cross.
I call on your help in the womb, the oracle of the eternal who gathers upon the power of the waters.
It raises confusion, chaos and blood on the hidden top of the 'Sinai' the rebellious muse aônia the inept spirit.
...

Numbers, (666) ... Serpents carved in the malevolous spit of verse (90) ... Gods, earthquakes, anguishes, and mourning.

Sacred verses are read, sealed with blood in verses of death (33) ... Heaven reaches the pubescent of the soul, the earth to the right of God.
...