The sweet revenge of suffering is smelt
as life unfolds its leaves,
and we learn the consequences
of our acts.
It is as if spring had magical powers
to conquer those cold spirits
whose winter nights represent
the insensible ways to deal
with other’s suffering.
It is as if summer knew how to enchant
the shrub of life before it got chained
to pain letting autumn dance
in this floor of memories.
Gazing how it all comes back,
my body feels numb,
the freezing sorrow reaches my breath.
I knew it all had to end
and the soft memory of myself is smelt,
shivering spring is late.
Should I repent?
Observe before you do.
Listen before you speak up.
Do only if you can see because consequences are always knocking at your nude heart.
Repentance does not work for love
because love does not judge.
Repentance works for you,
so love can touch your soul.
Why should we regret having the opportunity to do it right through love?
Mistakes are like marshmallows, soft and sweet, but rage and anger is like the fire that consumes all the sweetness and softness of your error.
Don’t let winter steal your conscience. Pain is temporary, as absorbing and profound that it may be felt… It shall never replace the deepness and infinity of love.
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