Deer

A small deer hoba running through the forest when an arrow found him, his life ended slowly, breath escaped from his mouth when he saw a stranger approaching with something shiny to sunlight, this was the last thing he saw.

Life ends in a sigh and takes thousands of moments to give way, life is only life, death is an endpoint that kills histroia we have created. Today I am thinking and just think, one day plus one day less, a beer at my side more with cold to cool weather. I'm alone and I do not care.

Sitting in a corner all alone,
staring from the bottom of his soul,
watching the night come in from the window window

The rain has stopped falling, but does not imply that the sun never will leave, one day has to end like everything else, the night will cover my movements and the rain washed my steps. I'll see water dancing along in front of my head forgotten that I have my way there I started there the site of a new chapter. Where the blood will run and perhaps find an end, perhaps that deer will be me, or perhaps the hunter who killed him. we all have that role at some point in life. ALL without exception.

Water

Watching the water dance to the beat of a tragic song, exiled like my own need, away from the city I grew up where I was born, out of town thinking about the ghosts that I whisper in your ear names that draw pictures, I see people full of grace, remembering that at some point I was happy, but that was left behind, there is no turning back, now I've forgotten my smile, no fear for me dead since the day I was born, is what only in or I have certainly not if in the future I will have glory or shame, I left if there will be no happiness or sadness of those around me, I hugged to death since I have use of reason surrounded by it, do not fear for I fear that the only thing certain in this life I have cursed, but what I fear is a life, as not to fear something as stochastic, raw and unexpected, which do not know who stabbed you in the back or who will your friend, a true friend, I'm here if you know anyone but a handful of people looking to start again, wanting to forget the first time, trying to create a new life away from the old, looking for answers where there are only questions now that the clouds cover the sky and fly I think, wanting to do so because such thoughts eat away my mind, hanciendo more damage, but the chips are down and I with her, laughed with her, sometimes by as many of desperation, the resignation, by those false smiles deceived me with a broken spirit, wings eaten by fears and a dead smile in this infinite and superfluous time, as the song says "This wound in my soul I fail to heal."

So today I am silent, because my words will not be more than sarcasm and insults to that damned fate that cursed me more than once over that fucking unstoppable time.

Soak a white rose with my crimson blood, the only time the red rust that had, causing it to take a color so grotesque that was painful to see her, as that person that a dagger in my back nail. The rain washed my wounds and time will heal them.