Nahualotl

The wastings Of the waster Who wastes the time Who bends the time Inside his head You'll find a maze You'll find the hell Built upon words he never told And swallowed feels The hundreds of pages For nothing good to come For nothing special to show up Wasting, wasted, he wastes the time, the life, the whole space Is this a prayer? Is this a spell? Many questions Coming And the answers might come