Mornings become gray, poetry cry and hurt, flowers wither and love do not last, all that last is a chain of thorns, that as much as you try to remove them, they embrace you more, they go deeper and thorns, blood and your skin, mix, and you no longer know what to do because you became a bloody thorn and now you are more than bitterness, you lost sanity, the sense of pleasure, the stars will fall to the ground and illusions as butterflies facing fire, will burn their wings and will no longer fly. There is no life here, only sadness, the happiness that you will never taste.
This is the signal of the spirit where apathy is born, the coldest night, the most absolute distrust. The demon of discouragement, its name is legion, and is in front of you, as fallen angel, pretending to accompany and take you in but as soon as he comes closer, he will bury his claws in your heart and he will never leave you.
Move away because he will deceive and captivate you. Move away from him
-Art and Teachings to nourish your soul, based on the works of Oscar Basurto Carbonell
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