A Hole in the Hearth

I feel a hole in my hearth,

but not like a projectile one,

like someone open,

from a long time,

that has not been yet closed.

What have I ignored,

what I have not cared a little,

now I can feel,

even for just some seconds,

in the dark of winter afternoons.

Oh, what time has left,

a undiscosed pain,

while time has gone by,

not caring to left the results,

to me.

Now I want to stop it all,

and at the same time clean me up,

for what has passed,

for what I was used to,

for what I left behind, inside.

What a time this is,

to watch the mirror,

and see the depth of my eyes,

as the bright soul thrives,

to come out and revolute.