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.