Sacrifice.
Saving what would be the suffering of so much desire,
I expose myself to a life of painful webs
without nexus and joys,
only in the hope that one day
the ship docking at the pier softly.
In the generalized chaos of the hope
and shrouded debased by the many disillusions,
that remains for me it just looks
at the marks of the tracks left all her life
without even knowing if there will be rest.
The sorrow wherever there might be mastering the tranquility,
but what to do with so many turbulent waters,
if the way was lost and the skyline no longer exists?
Marcos Loures
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