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 the pain that let autumn dance in this floor of memories. Gazing how it all comes back, my body feels numb, the freezing sorrow reaches my breath, winter came. I knew it all had to end as the soft memory of myself is smelt, shivering as spring is late. Should I repent? I do, and I become the summer of my sight.
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.