...

Tendría bastante que escribir pero he de dejaros mas que silencio. Un silencio tan elusivo...


...Se ha perdido el último fragmento en gotas de rubí.



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Beware, dearest daughter, beware of the silent ones
The beautiful ones…
For now, they are all but whispers tempered within the edifice of time.
Beware, dearest daughter
For they are far less merciful… than I

Even in death, my spirit cries out for her
Weeping for the youth that was raped… the innocence that was defiled…
Her pale, child-like, porcelain face
Now shattered into a thousand tiny
Fragments of lifeless beauty… each reflecting its own horror
I laugh at the mockery and irony of fate…
For she spares no one as she dances hand in hand with time
She taunts us with her invisible smile
A smile which to me reflects only a masque
A masque which my face can no longer wear…

Beware, dearest daughter, beware of the silent ones
Beware, dearest daughter,
For they are far less merciful… than I

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Bueno, a pesar del miedo y el desesperado letargo que pasé por la desaprobación de mi último blog he decidido abrir este. Quizá no vaya dirigido precisamente hacia los demás, solamente será un desahogo ante mis palabras atoradas en la lágrima encadenante a mi garganta.
Mis diarios han ardido en fuego y las palabras han sido cegadas al suspiro con fulminantes gotas de cera, derramadas en mis últimos recuerdos, aquellos, perdidos, absorvidos y contenidos por la fría tierra en la que posa mi lápida; solo en ella, solo mi nombre, olvidado hasta por algún susurro, por alguna elegía...será descrito aquí, lo que fue, lo que es...lo que revive al extinguir una lágrima más. Aquí os presentaré lo que pasó ...oh, hace tantas lunas atrás...

A night of december so dark and cold,
I walked a path ages old
The moon amongst the clouds revealed
lightning valleys, forest and field
Embraced by silence I wandered the moor
an endless landscape by my side
when in the mist I saw a light
dancing through the hazy night
I stood and watched the play in awe
was deeply touched by what I saw
I told my friends what I did see
and what they told did tremble me!
It's said the ghost of a young, fair maid
is cursed to dwell beneath the shade
of the olden oak she died below
O that was many moons ago!