From the dark

From the depths of my existence, insignificant if I compare it with the world, I observe the chaos that surrounds the city, the smoke that surrounds you and the vague words that are entangled with the screams, of a martyr, that grow louder to capture the attention of a love that got lost on the way.

From the hidden soul, one feels the pain and impotence of those who continue to wait for their loved one, of those who retain ideas and complexes, of those who are alone, on pause. In his head Bronte rumbles: you rush yourself towards your destiny ”, thus recalling the opportunity to end, continue or change the course of his life and to defend his convictions at all costs.

From a small glow are all the hopes of love, daughters and sons, brothers and sisters, lovers and voices, they grow with the force of the same bullet that crosses the shadows that surround the common places in which each of us always we fall.

From the land of oblivion I recognize myself. Fallas are the way to see myself as I am behind the backs of society and how they paint me, what is said, what was goes to infinity; I shield myself behind that little glow that is my mind.

From the dark I let myself be carried away by the hopes, for which no one bets, for my love, my love and the complicity that I came to have with destiny. From here I try to take the reins of what had been thrown on deaf ears.