JAN/25 Contemplation.

For a Long Time I built a story on top of a crumbled castle.

And to escape this harsh reality, I’ve found over a thousand reasons.

Now, the words of the Saints sound like music to my ears, Since it’s become almost unbearable To hear the voice of my anguished eyes.

By the end, after all tears, all the hurt, If I do not come undone, maybe I’ll ask for help to return From a place where I’ve fallen, Like an angel who died in rage. In the fall, I shattered, But now I allow myself to change.

I looked around me to rebuild my crumble dreams, to live for good moments without needing to hide my eyes. I’ve even written a will hat contains absolutely nothing, blank, nothing at all, Since my greatest inheritance Is the one I’ll carry with me and what I will leave in people's heart.

To evolve, after the terror subsides, is be able to believe in magic again.

All this hatred is the poison you drink, Hoping the other will die.