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miércoles, 28 de marzo de 2012

Misteries of the world




Every reality, every new sights to watch are magical for our perspectives. Inconceivable. Out of every reason. Every blue field is there to be discovered... No stains, no harm to do... Inmaculated. Those lands are a fantasy to heal our own world through another ilussions, melting feelings and turning them into acceptation. Those dreams become real, those impossible horizons are there to be crossed. This earth is not ours only: more worlds are being born, blooming from a cocoon meant to be our whole universe. The darkness vanish in order to become a blue hope, starting a new journey. Discovering those magical seas is just the beginning to rejoice our spirit.

viernes, 16 de marzo de 2012

Ira encarnada



"Portadores infames...
Fantasía, crepúsculos, alegrías.
En tinta roja danzamos eufóricos...
¿Alegría?¿Júbilo?
¡Es la fiesta de los malditos,
alzados y perturbados!
¡Salvajes son esos pleitos,
son animales esos condenados!
Profana divinidad proclaman;
portadores, oradores.... ¡Negros justicieros!
Desgarrando la cólera...
Rompiendo la agonía...
Atravesando los cimientos de la opinión...
Triturando las señales de la bondad...
Creando la palabra por nuestro infierno.
Terror creamos, valor pulverizamos,
Ponzoñosos estallidos promulgamos,
somos ley; infamia consechamos,
Vino bebemos, lo que cabamos, enterramos
¡Pasión sanguinaria es el valor!
¡Una misión!¡Una visión teñida de asquerosa presión!
¡¡Libérame de este psicópata calor!!
¡¡¡Es una agonía disfrazada de trascendente sensación!!!

domingo, 4 de marzo de 2012

Nostalgia



Estamos hechos de vida, muerte, memorias y sentimientos. Entre ellos, nos aferramos plenamente a la nostalgia, prueba de que existimos basandonos en el pasado. Sus claves pueden llevarnos al futuro o a vivir en un mundo ya extinto por el resto de nuestras vidas. Nos extinguimos nosotros mismos, como la ceniza ante los elementos, al mimetizarnos con los vientos del recuerdo. Días felices quedaron atrás. Estás solo no porque no encuentras tu camino, sino porque te aferras al único que conoces como una forma de asegurar una alegría pasajera.

martes, 21 de febrero de 2012

Psychedelic



"Infamous, misfortune...
World made by esence is the human.
Not the nature, not the origins,
but the constructions of false glories we are.
is it you? Is it me?
is it the travel made by you what changes me?
To pleasures I'm falling, I'm dreaming,
I don't see myself if I'm leaving,
You don't get me; it's your land.
That false nature is my brand.
Lusty I am, lost, also, in my arms...
Who could embrace me? No, you can't...
It's you the one that in my darkness lurks.
Human? Man? It ends bad, anyways,
since in my night, the one who reigns I am:
endless nights, shimmering holidays...
To your dreams I ram!

miércoles, 15 de febrero de 2012

Caras de la humanidad


El mundo está hecho de ciertas verdades, aunque, principalmente, de mentiras, bajo la carne del ser humano y hasta la misma naturaleza. Aun cuando existan ambas caras, la nuestra se forja por las visiones de todo sentimiento en nosotros mismos, sin importar que encaje en algún bando: solo queremos seguir adelante, aun portando verdades y mentiras en el corazón.

lunes, 13 de febrero de 2012

Worlds



Behold the fantasy. It's not a dream... It's just another reality, rooted from our universe; our mind. It's that simple? Does such world die when we do, too? In the end, they are just lands developed by ourselves, but they mean something to us. It's a world where our will is absolute, it's the impossible turned into possible facts. However... Are we playing to be God? We're the makers, but that worlds it's for them to fight and live in. We put the rules and they are there to show us something new. We learn from this reality and that inside our universe.

White Embrace



The celestial blessing of nature calls, swirling through the Darkness. It's cold...and you feel it, it's flying, but it's not an angel. Your name doesn't matter, sweet inmaculate gift, since this looming darkness from you were born from is teaching us something after all, even from behind its veil. It's not worthy to say it; go to sleep, let this whistle make you dream, fall in a white world and prepare to meet your inspirated esence: a world based on your feelings.