Thursday, 25 August 2011

About strenght

A few years ago I was in war.
In war with myself.
Salty tears down my cheek.
Unanswered questions hung cheeky up in the ceiling like balloons.
The contours that were clear were suddenly blurred
Sad characters who danced samba all night.
Anxiety had a firm stranglehold on my neck.
Rabbit pulse was palpable.
So easy to succumb.
Place the victim crown of thorns on my head.
Really hard so that the skin scratched pieces of thorn branches.

The only good thing about wars is that they often have an ending.
And you take your memories and weaves them together with everything else.
Make trades and getting stronger.
Do not forget.
Never forget.
Because the greatest human beings tattoo themselves
On the inside.
Nothing rub directly, but sometimes feels a bit extra.
In a particular movement.
Today I'm amazed how many storms a human can have.
Without disapearing into dust.
Cause the desert dry your soul.
Without hope.

Like water that caresses the desert brought me again slowly to life.
What once was no soul thirsts for more.
The seed is sown.
It grows stronger with every breath.
And again full of life.
Isn´t it a bit strange?
As time passes, take the one where the strength of the grief.
And finally.
Can you rejoice.
Remember and be grateful.
Feeling just stronger.
Grateful and strong.
And full of love for those whom I call my family.

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