An unexistent town | final version

Ten streets that do not cross
Squares equidistant from all intersections
Remote nameless alleys where nobody’s ever lost.
Two or three colours, a well, an arcade
Intimacy, and eclipse.
What siege destroyed its walls?
What loyalty was dissipated?
How many tomorrows wait for your heroes?
The incessant stream was diverted
When it was laid by siege.
What did deprivation matter,
if on their shields testudos raised up
the humiliation of exile to the flabby abdomen
of a breathless god.
The streets did not cross the swords
We used to kill, empty squares were
the orbits of our gaze fixed
on the vigil that still raises up
its drawbridges for the eternal battle
with neither arms nor standards but the blood
in our distant alleys where nobody gets ever lost.
Long was the wait,
But all that was left were ghosts
When the mist dissipated.