I know you’re somewhere near, the birds chirp, I hear you here.
Your love fulfills me still, I feel your warm embrace, nonetheless it’s imperceptible.
To look for you, is what you said, “you need me, I’ll be there.”
I believe it, but at time’s I’m not too confident.
I pray to you today, but just like god, sometimes I question if you could hear me anyway…
Then something shows me that you can, situations resolve, opportunities present, and thats when I know, that was from my angel, heaven sent.
I know you’re somewhere near, but your not present here.
The void is present still, it lingers in the air.
That feeling in the gut, I hear about other deaths, and I still resígnate.
I don’t mean to make it about me, but dam it, I still miss my best friend.
Recovery is still miles away…
I can’t let go, the pain haunts me in the flesh.
I need to hear your voice, advice and punishments.
Or just a simple joke, laughing without withholding tears and feeling any pain.
Oh what I would do, for an annoying call from you, I’d love to role my eyes because the ringing won’t barricade.
Give you some attitude because you won’t stop questioning.
“How are you? How do you feel?”
Always wondering if I had ate.
The simplicity and sincerity behind those concerns, why didn’t I appreciate?
I know you’re somewhere near, yet, I wish you were just a call away.
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Yo soy la lumbre que alumbra el camino,
Yo camino los pasos de los que vinieron antes de mí.
Yo cuento sus historias, sus de deseos, y mantengo sus sueños vivos.
Yo represento el sufrimiento, y el dolor.
Estoy hecha de la misma sangre que coreo en sus venas.
La lucha no solo es mía,
Es de mis antepasados.
De mis abuelos.
De mis padres.
Y para aquellos que vendrán después de mí.
I am the flame that illuminates the pathway.
I walk in the footsteps of those that came before me.
I tell their old stories, their desires, and maintain their dreams alive.
I represent the sacrifice, and the pain.
I’m made of the same blood that ran through their veins.
This fight isn’t only my fight.
It’s of my ancestors.
It’s of my grandparents.
It’s of my parents.
… and for those that’ll come after me.