A small poem about 2 similar but different perspectives that Victor del Angel (or Angelo) read. (it was taken from Quotation Marks, to continue this story you can read the other books I created, I especially recommend The voice of silence, which will be out in November).
Uma coleção com alguns poemas que eu escrevo ao longo do tempo, normalmente curtos, mas haverá um capitulo por dia. Os poemas que eu mais gostar vão ser postados como histórias independentes e vão ter uma continuação. ( essa história faz parte de outra chamada The voice of Silence que sai em novembro )
A poetry about a man who faced a god, at least that was what Victor del Angelo imagined when reading the old poems from the oldest section of that gigantic library, "lost" on a deserted island, imitating the ridiculous and superfluous poems he found, this one minimally caught his attention. (story taken from Quotation Marks, you can see several similar stories there)
The words came out spilled together with my empty tears, they were written with the pencil of my gray days and the red ink of my bleeding heart, they spoke by themselves what I never dared to shout; my silence became sad poetry that flies away with my soul. Every sleepless night they have a life of their own, they travel freely and express what for years I dared to shut up, they are silhouettes that no one dared to look at, they are just words sculpted into verses that the sea takes away every night * I write so as not to forget.